


Bloodlines

by mooncrises



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: But I took cookie cutters to canon and cut out the pieces I wanted, Canon-Typical Violence, Companions Questline, F/M, Love/Hate, Sibling Rivalry, Swearing, There's two Dragonborn, Thieves Guild Questline, Touches on main questline/Dragonborn/Dawnguard, Vampires, Werewolves, lots of fighting, mostly follows canon, slow burn? maybe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 09:35:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22967830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mooncrises/pseuds/mooncrises
Summary: Twin sisters. One good, another evil. One joined the Thieves Guild and the Dark Brotherhood, the other joins the Companions. Both Dragonborn.Zinnia has spent her entire life cleaning up after her irresponsible and rebellious twin sister and she's tired of it. Azalea has no idea why her sister is so uptight about everything. One day, they've had enough of each other and they go their separate ways. Zinnia wants to start over and begin a new life with a new family. Azalea can stay out of it for only so long.
Relationships: Brynjolf/Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Vilkas
Comments: 20
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! This is the first fanfic I've written in a while so I'm very rusty, in case you didn't notice already. I've had this idea bouncing around in my head for a while now and this is also the first time I've ever written anything for TES so I thought I'd take a crack at it! I have a general idea of where I want this story to go but I am doing a little experimentation here. So feedback is always helpful! Lemme know what you guys think! 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy! <3

“What’s your name?”

“Zinnia, sir.” 

“And why do you want to join the Companions, Zinnia?” 

The young Breton woman paused while the two men, Kodlak Whitemane and Vilkas, watched her curiously from their seats. Why did she want to join the Companions? The answer was simple. 

Just a few days ago, Zinnia was abandoned and left to die by her one and only sister during an Imperial raid. Not only was she mistaken for a Stormcloak, but she was also mistaken for said sister. She was arrested and sent to be executed in Helgen. And just as her head was on the chopping block, her saving grace was--you guessed it--a big, black dragon. After clawing her way out of the chaos, Zinnia ended up in Riverwood. She met a nice man named Alvor, who gave her supplies and a place to sleep for the night, before asking her to go to Whiterun to speak with the Jarl. The next thing she knew, she was doing his wizard a favor. She nearly died again in Bleak Falls Barrow. And there was some weird glowing shit. And then she nearly died _again_ after that when she was sent to go fight a dragon with the Jarl’s housecarl. How she survived, Zinnia will never know. Apparently it wasn’t sheer dumb luck like it has been this entire time. Apparently it’s because she is Dragonborn, as she literally absorbed the said dragon’s soul. As a thank you, she was made Thane of Whiterun, and then summoned by the Greybeards to High Hrothgar to fulfill her Dragonborn destiny. 

Why did Zinnia want to join the Companions? The answer was simple. Because she didn’t know what else to do. 

Zinnia is not a warrior. She is convinced that this whole “Dragonborn destiny” is a cruel trick by the gods. What she ever did to them she’ll never know. Perhaps the gods had gotten her confused with her sister, just like the Imperial soldiers had days earlier. 

So here Zinnia was. She didn’t have anywhere else to go. No home, no family, nothing. 

“I’ve always deeply respected and admired the Companions.” _Lie._ She grew up in the Riften orphanage, disconnected from the rest of the world. She didn’t know about the Companions until recently. “I’m looking for a new beginning.” _True._ “I want to be a better person--to become the best version of myself.” 

Vilkas arched an eyebrow at her, “are you saying that you have not lived an honorable life? Are you hiding something?” 

_Yes._

“What? No! Of course not!” Zinnia was genuinely surprised by his accusations. It was clear what he really wanted to know: was she a criminal? No, she wasn’t. But her sister was. And because she’s her sister, she could be just as guilty. Perhaps revealing she was the Dragonborn could put her in the clear, but Zinnia hasn’t decided if she wanted to be the Dragonborn yet. In fact, right now, she didn’t. 

“Vilkas,” Kodlak spoke. It was a warning. Vilkas was about to overstep, and his lips formed a tight line to bite back any more comments. “It matters not what someone’s past is, so long as they strive to be better tomorrow. I believe she is telling the truth.” He shifted his solemn gaze to Zinnia. “Tell me, how are you in battle, girl?”

 _She sucked._

“Well, I’m still alive now, aren’t I?” she said with a sheepish smile. She caught Vilkas’ frown and she cleared her throat nervously. “I can handle myself but I’ll be the first to say that I’m not very good in battle. Not yet, that is.” 

Kodlak nodded and leaned back in his seat, “humility is a virtue and something I respect. Vilkas, here, will test your arm.” 

“Master, you’re not truly considering accepting her?” Vilkas blurted. _Ouch._ Zinnia knew that joining the Companions wouldn’t be easy, but part of her had _some_ hope that she would be accepted for who she is. 

“I am nobody’s master, Vilkas,” Kodlak growled. “And last I checked, we had some empty beds in Jorrvaskr for those with a fire burning in their hearts. She has a certain strength of spirit.” 

“Apologies. But perhaps this isn’t the time. I’ve never even heard of this outsider,” the younger man protested. 

“I’m actually a Thane of Whiterun,” Zinnia cheerily injected. Vilkas arched an eyebrow at her and she regretted intervening. He clearly had no idea what she was talking about, and likely didn’t believe her. “But that only recently happened…” _Like an hour ago._

“Jarl Balgruuf has good judgment. Sometimes, Vilkas, as you see here, the famous come to us. Sometimes men and women come to us to seek their fame. It makes no difference. What matters is their heart.” 

A wave of relief washed over Zinnia. 

“And their arm,” Vilkas added. The wave was gone. 

“Vilkas, take her out to the yard and see what she can do.” 

“Aye.” 

It wasn’t until Vilkas rose from his seat that Zinnia realized she had made a grave mistake. The man towered over her, as she barely even made it to his shoulders. She shrunk under his silver gaze, which only seemed intensified by the black warpaint around his eyes. She knew that this wasn’t a serious fight, but she also knew that she didn’t stand a chance against him. There was no way she was going to be able to prove herself, no matter what Kodlak says. 

“Come on. Follow me,” Vilkas said as he strode past her. Zinnia looked at Kodlak one last time and he motioned for her to follow him. Maybe she should just make a run for it and try a new beginning somewhere else, like Markarth or something. 

Zinnia trailed behind Vilkas. He said nothing to her on their walk but Zinnia was too distracted by her surroundings anyway. When she had first entered Jorrvaskr, a Nord woman and a Dunmer man were engaged in a heated brawl. Instead of breaking the pair up, other members were cheering them on without choosing a specific side. The said Dunmer was groaning and nursing a bloody nose while a Nord man teased him. Zinnia didn’t see the girl from the brawl anywhere inside the mead hall. An Imperial woman eyed her curiously. Two older Nord men sat at the table by the hearth, commenting on the brawl that had unfolded moments earlier. So many things were happening within these walls; it was difficult for Zinnia to imagine herself as one of these people. 

The Nord woman was sitting on a bench outside. She was still clearly riled up from the fight, even though she had won, according to what Zinnia had overheard. A redheaded woman was keeping her from getting carried away. But when Vilkas took Zinnia to the yard, they had captured everyone’s attention. The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself but she knew it was inevitable. She was fresh blood. Zinnia knew they were all taking her in just as much as she was taking them in. 

When he positioned himself before the Breton, Vilkas took a long look at her. She was small. Her skin was pale but dirty and her light blonde hair was in a long braid down her spine. She wore hide armor that was clearly old and she didn’t fill it out as she should have, indicating she was probably undernourished. The violet hue of her eyes seemed a bit exaggerated by the dark circles under them. She looked like she was in dire need of a proper meal, a warm bath, and a good night’s rest. What strength Kodlak saw in her was beyond Vilkas. She looked nothing like a warrior. He only saw this going one way and hopefully, this’ll be the last time he sees her. 

“The old man said to have a look at you, so let’s do this. Just have a few swings at me so I can see your form. Don’t worry, I can take it,” Vilkas said, drawing a shield. 

Zinnia drew the iron sword that was fastened at her waist. Her stance was already wrong--her feet were too close together--but he kept quiet about it. 

“So I just...come at you?” she asked. He nodded once. 

“Aye.” 

Zinnia had never been in an “attacker” position. She was always a defender, protecting herself from attacks, wherever they may come. She was filled with so much doubt that she just went for it--she swung her sword at Vilkas’s raised shield. Her footing was all wrong, and she knew it, and she knew that she wasn’t hitting him as hard as she should be. 

“Alright. Good,” Vilkas said, lowering his shield. 

“Good?” Zinnia blinked. 

“It wasn’t...bad.” Vilkas was telling the truth. Sure, her form was bad, but there _was_ power in her arm. At least, more power than he had expected to come from the tiny girl. Maybe he could find the right niche for her strength. After all, everyone in the Companions had their own unique abilities they brought to the faction. But he had to try something different. 

Zinnia eyed Vilkas curiously as he set aside the shield and returned to his position before her. He got in a fighting stance and raised gloved fists. 

“Come at me again. This time, no weapons,” Vilkas commanded. Zinnia swallowed and sheathed her sword. She knew how to fist fight, perhaps even better than with a weapon. Since they didn’t have much for weapons growing up, her sister taught her how so that she’d be able to defend herself in the streets of Riften. However, Zinnia left all the fighting to her sister. 

This time, Vilkas was the one charged. He swung a punch at her and she quickly ducked, knowing that if he had made contact with her, she would’ve been knocked out immediately. She punched him in the chest and he barely budged, but Zinnia was just grateful she was able to land a hit in the first place. She’ll just have to give it more power. 

Her tiny moment of victory was over when Vilkas spotted an opening and hit her in the jaw. She instantly went down and a hand flew to where he had struck. Damn, that _hurt_. That was going to leave an ugly bruise. Vilkas didn’t approach her, awaiting her next move. Zinnia quickly pulled herself together and got back on her feet. This time, she charged at him, determined to land him an equally powerful blow. 

The fight lasted longer than either of them expected. It wasn’t a serious fight but Zinnia knew that he was testing her to see if she was worthy of his respect and that of the Companions’. Both of them had something at stake here. Zinnia wanted to become a member. Vilkas wanted to know if this was a person he could truly call Shield-Sister. But every time he knocked her down, she kept getting back up, albeit slower than the last. Ironically, every hit she made was harder than the last. 

Finally, Vilkas brought his fist to her gut, and when she hit the ground, she didn’t get up. She let out a groan between clenched teeth and clutched her abdomen. He knew he pushed her too hard but that is what it took to be a Companion. 

“Here.” He offered the Breton a piece of cloth. She took it gratefully and used it to wipe the dirt and sweat off her face. The fight was over but Zinnia couldn’t calm herself. Her heart and mind were both racing. This went as bad as she thought it would be. She was pathetic. There was no way she would be a Companion. 

Vilkas offered her a hand but rather than taking it, she placed the cloth in it. She pushed herself to her feet and bit back another groan. Vilkas expected her to say something, but she was watching him expectantly. 

“Not bad. Next time won’t be so easy,” Vilkas said as he folded his arms across his chest. He watched her violet eyes light up. 

“Next time?” she repeated in disbelief. He nodded once. 

“Aye. You might just make it. But you have a long way to go. You’re just a whelp to us, new blood. You do what we tell you. Understand?” 

Zinnia nodded eagerly, “Yes, sir.” 

“Good.” Vilkas drew his sword but held it upside down, offering the hilt out to her. “Here’s my sword. Go take it up to Eorlund to have it sharpened.” Zinnia accepted it from him but just as she turned away, he said, “And be careful with that. It’s probably worth more than you are.” 

_A block of cheese was probably worth more than her._

“Understood.” 

* * *

While Zinnia made her way to the Skyforge, Vilkas went inside Jorrvaskr to report back to Kodlak. 

“What do you make of the new blood?” Aela asked as she joined Vilkas’ side. 

“She’s worse than when Ria first joined,” Vilkas admitted quietly, not stopping in his stroll. Thankfully, the said Imperial woman wasn’t around to hear that comment. 

“But Ria has learned quickly,” Aela reminded. “She’s improved much since she joined us.” 

“This girl is quiet and hard to read,” Vilkas continued. “Kodlak sees something special in her.” 

“Do you?” 

“Do I what?”

“Do you see something special in her?” 

Vilkas paused. Truthfully, yes. He _felt_ like there was something special about the Breton. But logically speaking, there was _nothing_ special about her. Sure, she had an unusual eye color, but everything about her was ordinary. She wore ordinary armor, wielded an ordinary sword. She was barely an average fighter. She could easily blend in with a crowd, but Vilkas had a feeling that was exactly what she wanted. 

“If Kodlak sees something, then she must be special. I respect his judgment,” Vilkas finally answered. “She’s passionate, I’ll give her that. But she has a long way to go if she wants to become strong.” 

“Only time will tell,” Aela muttered as they came to the end of the hallway of the living quarters. Vilkas pushed open the door to the Harbinger’s quarters, while Aela hung back. She didn’t know what to make of the Breton girl. There was a big difference in watching the fight and being in the fight. As much as Aela trusted Vilkas, she couldn’t help but wonder if his stubbornness was preventing him from giving the Breton more credit. 

“Excuse me!” A voice broke Aela’s thoughts. Speak of the devil, the newcomer was approaching with a familiar shield in her hands. “Eorlund told me you’re Aela, right? I have your shield for you.” 

Aela’s lips curved into a smile, “ah, good! I’ve been waiting for this.” As Zinnia gave Aela her shield, Aela took a good look at her, wondering if maybe there was something about her that stood out, but Aela found nothing. That doesn’t mean something wasn’t there, though… “What is your name, newcomer?” 

“Zinnia. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Aela,” Zinnia replied politely with a small smile. 

“So the old man thinks you’ve got some heart, I guess. I saw you training with Vilkas in the yard. You gave him quite a thrashing.” Ha. _As if._ Zinnia suppressed a snort. 

“No, no. I’m sure he would beg to differ,” Zinnia quickly brushed off. 

“Do you think you could handle Vilkas in a real fight?”

This time, Zinnia couldn’t hold back a chuckle, “maybe someday. But not today. Or tomorrow. Or really any time soon.” 

“But you’re still optimistic,” Aela pointed out. “I like that.” Someone behind Zinnia caught Aela’s eye--Farkas--no doubt heading to his room. “Here, let’s have Farkas show you around.”

Zinnia looked to where Aela had shifted her gaze to--a Nord man, presumably Farkas, approached them. He was as tall as Vilkas, but had larger muscles and longer hair. _They were probably brothers,_ Zinnia mused. They certainly looked like it, even down to the warpaint. 

“Did you call me?” He asked Aela, ignoring Zinnia. 

“Of course I did, ice brain,” Aela retorted with an eye roll. “Show this new blood where the rest of the whelps sleep.”

“New blood?” His silver eyes fell on Zinnia and he smiled at her. “Oh, I remember you. You trained with Vilkas. Come on, follow me.” 

Zinnia gave Aela a parting wave before silently following the taller man. 

“Aela likes to tease me, but she’s a good person.” Zinnia said nothing but nodded, though Farkas probably didn’t see it. He continued chatting, “She challenges us to be our best. We all challenge each other like that in some way, really, as you’ll soon learn. It’s nice to have a new face around. It gets boring here sometimes. Where did you say you were from?” 

_She didn’t._

“I’ve been all over, really,” _Lie._ “Though this is my first time in Whiterun.” 

“Really? Of all the holds, Whiterun is the one everyone has to visit at some point, being at the heart of the province at all. But I guess there's a first time for everything. Welcome to Whiterun, newcomer!” 

A small smile tugged on Zinnia’s lips, “thanks. I’m Zinnia, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Zinnia. I hope you’ll like it here. This can be a rough life.” 

_Can’t be any rougher than nearly being executed only to be saved by a freakin’ dragon._

“I don’t think it’ll be that bad when you’ve got friends like these.” 

Farkas chuckled, “true. A life like this is easier with these people. Although we sometimes try to kill each other, you’re in good company. It really feels like a family here. I would die for any of my Shield-Siblings.” They reached the opposite end of the hallway. “The quarters are over here. Just pick a bed and fall in it when you’re tired. Tilma will keep the place clean. She always has. So be nice to her.” 

Farkas pushed open the doors. Though she could barely see around his bulky frame, she saw some beds and a long room. 

“All right, here you are. Come to me or Aela if you’re looking for work. We can start as early as tomorrow morning if you’d like,” Farkas offered with a bright grin. “Good luck. Welcome to the Companions, Zinnia.” 

Farkas left Zinnia to take in her new surroundings. There were eight beds in the room, each with their own dresser. All of the beds were neatly made and there were weapons and shields scattered about the room. Farkas told her to just pick a bed and fall in it, which is exactly what Zinnia craved to do. But if she remembered anything from the Riften orphanage, she knew that where you slept did indeed matter. Still, Zinnia opted for a bed in the corner to her left. 

“That’s my bed, milk-drinker,” a female voice stated harshly from behind Zinnia, badly startling her. It was a Nord woman with a helmet and red face paint under her eyes. Zinnia recognized her from before--the winner of the brawl with the Dunmer. Zinnia backed away and put her hands up in surrender. The last thing she wanted was to get in another fight.

“Sorry--I didn’t know,” Zinnia said. The Nord walked past her without taking her eyes off her before plopping down on the furs. 

“Well, now you know. So you better not make the same mistake twice, new blood,” she threatened. 

“You can have this bed over here,” an Imperial woman suggested as she came through the doorway, pointing to the bed across from the Nord. “No one’s sleeping in that one.” 

Zinnia smiled gratefully at her, “thanks.” 

“I’m Ria. I was the newest Companion until you came along today. And that’s Njada Stonearm. Don’t worry though; her bark is worse than her bite,” Ria introduced. 

“Oh really? You want to test that?” Njada growled as she tore off her boots and threw them to the ground. Ria rolled her eyes. 

“All right, all right. So her bark and her bite are equally bad. But don’t let her scare you away, friend,” Ria reassured. 

“Or you can sleep over here with us!” A male voice beckoned. A blond Nord man waved at Zinnia from across the room with the Dunmer man from earlier. “I can promise you _we_ don’t bite. Heck, you can even share a bed with me!”

“In your dreams, Torvar!” Ria retorted. The pair began playful banter back and forth until Njada told them to shut it before she made them so she can get some shut-eye. Even though they were all yelling at each other, something about the room was comforting to Zinnia. It did start to feel like a family. Now she had a place to rest and was surrounded by people who have accepted her as one of their own, more or less. For the first time in a very, very long while, Zinnia can rest without a single worry about her sister. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about using canon dialogue there! I definitely do not want to rely on canon dialogue, but I thought it was fitting for the situation. Also, I'm still trying to properly capture the voices of all the characters, hence why I slipped that in there. Like I said, I really appreciate any and all the feedback you can give!
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3


	2. Day One

When Zinnia awoke, she was alone. No Njada, no Ria, no Torvar, no Athis, but all of their beds were neatly made. Then the realization dawned on her: she overslept. Zinnia immediately shot up from the bed and hastily shoved her feet into her boots. Seconds later, she was out the door and bounding up the stairs to the mead hall. Her first real day as a Companion and she already wasted half of it asleep!

The mead hall was fairly empty when Zinnia entered it. Kodlak and Farkas were engaged in a conversation at the long table in the center. A couple of other men were seated at the other end of the table, dressed in clothes rather than armor. Aside from those four, no other Companion was in sight. They were likely outside enjoying the sun’s rays. 

_Great._

Farkas’s eyes fell on Zinnia and his face broke into a smile at the sight of her, waving her to come over. 

“There’s the newcomer!” Farkas greeted merrily. “I was beginning to think you fell into a coma.” 

“I’m so sorry--I didn't mean to oversleep--I promise you I’m not usually like this--it’ll never happen again--” Zinnia quickly apologized, taking a seat beside Farkas. Both Farkas and Kodlak erupted into chuckles at the frazzled Breton. 

“We don’t care about that, child,” Kodlak informed calmly. “This life is not an easy one. Some days are harder than others, so we know the value of a good night’s rest.”

"What about the jobs that need to get done?" 

"This isn't the Imperial Legion. As long as you show up and do your job, there's no schedule," Farkas assured. “The only times you need to know are meals. Breakfast is served every morning at eight, lunch at noon, and dinner at six. But there’s no requirement for you to be there."

“Are there any leftovers, by chance?” Zinnia asked. 

“Sure. I saved you a plate,” Farkas pushed a wooden plate filled with bread, cheese, and a pheasant breast towards her, “You do have to be careful. Sometimes the food at breakfast runs out quickly. I figured I’d save you from learning the hard way.” 

“Thanks!” 

The breakfast plate didn’t last very long. Farkas told her that most of the Companions were either training or out on jobs. He also introduced her to Brill and Vignar Gray-Mane. They weren’t Companions themselves but they lived in Jorrvaskr with them and were always available for chats. 

“So, Zinnia, what was your life like before you came to Whiterun? Do you have any family?” Farkas’s question caused Zinnia to nearly choke on her cheese. 

What was there really for her to say? She didn’t have any parents. She and her sister grew up in the Riften orphanage until they aged out of it. Then they were left to fend for themselves in the streets of Riften. Her sister was the one who kept her fed while Zinnia kept her out of trouble. Though she couldn’t keep her from joining the Thieves Guild. Or the Dark Brotherhood. But she wasn’t in the position to fight with her on that until recently. 

Kodlak was watching her intently for her answer. Zinnia swallowed. 

“I don’t really have any family.” _Lie._ But she wanted it to be true. She didn’t want to have the sister that she did. She didn’t want her to be in her life. 

“Most people who join the Companions don’t, child,” Kodlak said. “So know that you are not alone, nor will you ever be.” 

“Vilkas and I have been here since we were little whelps. Our father, Jergen, raised us here. Even Vignar couldn’t remember Companions younger than us!” Farkas shared. 

“So you and Vilkas are brothers?” Zinnia mused aloud. 

“Yup. We’re twins if you can believe it.” Zinnia nearly choked on her cheese again. 

“Twins? You two must be pretty close then.” 

“Of course! After Jergen left to fight in the Great War, we only had each other. I mean, the Companions have become my family, but Vilkas was always there for me. I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost him.” And just like that, her sister was back in her head again, just when Zinnia thought she banished the thought of her. “I hope the Companions can be a family for you too, Zin.” 

_Me too, friend. Me too._

“I’d love to get started on some work today,” Zinnia said, eager to change the subject. 

“You were right, Kodlak! She does have good spirit!” Farkas said with a hearty laugh. “I’ve got a job for you. But first, we got some training to do.”

“Training?” 

“Come on! Let’s not waste any time.” 

Zinnia gave Kodlak a small wave goodbye and he nodded kindly in acknowledgment. Farkas took her out back to where Vilkas tested her arm. Most of the Companions were out there, sitting under the awning or hacking away at the dummies. 

“Are we training with weapons today?” Zinnia asked, filled with regret, as her sword was all the way inside by her dresser. Thankfully, Farkas shook his head. 

“No weapons today.” 

This could only go as well as yesterday did. Farkas was _by far_ nicer than Vilkas but that doesn’t mean Farkas can’t and won’t beat the crap out of her as Vilkas did. Zinnia was still feeling an ache in her abdomen from Vilkas’s fist. 

Thankfully, Farkas wasn't the one throwing punches. Instead, he had Zinnia take her position. Once she did, he straightened her shoulders, moved her elbows, and nudged her feet apart to fix her form. Then, he had her swing at his palms he held up. This wasn't another test for Zinnia to pass. It was a lesson. Farkas taught her proper form and technique for fighting unarmed for opponents bigger than her _(aka all of them)_. He taught her only a couple of specific moves and had her practice them over and over again on him. If it hurt Farkas, he didn't show it. Landing the hits was more tiresome than being on the receiving end of them. But Zinnia was beyond grateful to have someone as patient and friendly as Farkas to teach her the basics. There was no way she'd survive had it been with his twin. 

Speaking of the devil, Zinnia noticed Vilkas in her peripheral, sitting with his arms crossed under the awning. He wasn't there before. He was watching her, regarding her carefully. 

“All right. Good. You've got the hang of it,” Farkas complimented after what felt like hours. Zinnia was drenched in sweat and trying to catch her breath, wondering how in Oblivion Farkas wasn't breaking a sweat. “Ready for your first job?”

_No._

“Yeah. I'm ready,” she panted, pushing her hair out of her forehead. 

“Great! We've got trouble right here in Whiterun. It's nothing we can't handle. Skulvar Sable-Hilt has been causing trouble for some people. You need to remind him of his obligations. I just need you to go out there, look tough, and scare this milk drinker into submission. Think you can handle that?” 

It took everything in Zinnia not to burst out laughing at Farkas. _He can't be serious._

“Are you serious?” Zinnia asked quietly. 

“Aye.” He nodded. 

Shit. He _was._

“So you want me to go intimidate someone?”

“That's right.”

“The Whiterun stable master?” 

“Yes.” Farkas frowned at her. And then he asked, very sincerely, “was I not clear?” 

“No, no! You were very clear,” Zinnia bit her lip. How in Oblivion was she supposed to rough a guy up? The stable master was going to laugh in her face. No one was going to take her seriously. _There's no way she can do this._ “Yeah, I can do that.” 

But she was going to try anyway. 

Farkas grinned at her, “great. Go get yourself washed up and head over there. And don't get too carried away, all right? I don't want to hear you killing anybody.” 

Now he's _got_ to be joking. 

Zinnia was quick to obey her new orders. She went back inside Jorrvaskr to wash her hands and face. After brushing her hair and putting it back in a braid, she strapped her sword to her waist and was out the door on her way to the Whiterun stables. 

Part of Zinnia wondered if Farkas truly believed she could do this job or not. He was definitely among the nicest of the Companions. But maybe he was too naive. Maybe he believed in her too much. Or maybe this was another test. It had to be. She had to prove that she was able to do the work of the Companions, starting with something simple like roughing someone up. 

If only it were so simple. 

Or maybe it was a cruel joke. Like the gods choosing her to be Dragonborn. Gods, what a disaster that is. It was either do this job for the Companions or head up to High Hrothgar. Public humiliation from this intimidation attempt sounded better than getting eaten by a dragon in an attempt to fulfill her Dragonborn destiny. _Yeah, public humiliation all the way._

Zinnia banished the negative thoughts from her head. Like her sister always said, she has got to stop overthinking these things. This was only the beginning of her new life. She had so much to see, so much to do, so much to learn. There's nothing stopping her now. 

The Whiterun guards acknowledged Zinnia as she walked out of the city’s gates. She didn't make it very far. In fact, she stopped dead in her descent to the stables attending sight of someone approaching her. Dressed in the unmistakable dark brown leather armor with a hood pulled over their face, Zinnia instantly recognized them, and the hair stood up on the back of her neck. 

The member of Riften’s Thieves Guild stopped too. She pulled her hood back, letting loose a full head of the same fair colored hair and revealing a face identical to Zinnia’s. There was one difference, though; the other girl was grinning wickedly. 

“Hey, sister!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this definitely felt like writing a filler chapter. Sorry about that! But it was necessary to move the story along. The real action begins the next chapter and Zinnia will actually start having a personality lol. Hopefully, I'll be able to upload it soon! As always, please lemme know what you guys think! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3


	3. Hired Muscle(s)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowza this chapter turned out way longer than planned! Hope you guys like it!

Azalea. 

Zinnia’s twin sister. Her only living family. The older one, as she liked to remind her. On the outside, they were perfectly identical. If they weren’t wearing different clothes, there was nothing to tell them apart, not even a scar. But the inside was a different story. Azalea was wild and loud. No one, no headmistress, no man, no guard could hold her down. She could charm anyone she met and sweet talk herself out of anything. She did anything and everything, threw all caution to the wind, consequences be damned. 

Azalea, above all, was selfish. Consequences be damned, even if those consequences were Zinnia’s life. 

Zinnia said nothing to Azalea, who came bounding up the hill and threw her arms around her. She let Azalea have her hug but she wasn’t going to hug her back. 

“What are you doing here?” Zinnia demanded, pulling away. 

“What? No, ‘hello’ or ‘good afternoon’ for your one and only sister?” Azalea mocked offense. 

“No.”

Azalea clutched her chest, pretending to be hurt by Zinnia’s coldness. 

“Ouch!” Azalea whined. “Zinnie, I came here to find you!” 

Zinnia regarded her carefully. Azalea was smiling warmly at her. She spoke to her as if she was returning from a Thieves Guild job. Zinnia never joined herself. She stayed behind, always waiting. And that’s why Zinnia wasn’t fooled this time. 

“No, you’re not,” Zinnia accused. A smile of disbelief broke across her face and she crossed her arms. “You’re here for a job.” 

“Aw, come on, Zin Zin. Don’t be like that! Don’t you know how happy I am to see you?” 

“After you abandoned me?” 

“I did not abandon you! We got separated!” 

“We got separated _because_ you ran off without me!” Zinnia snapped. 

“Zinnie, I swear I thought you were right behind me,” Azalea pleaded. “Please, you have to believe me. I would never abandon you. Ever.” 

Zinnia didn’t want to believe her. She wanted to be angry with her. She’s always wanted to be angry with her sister but couldn’t. She knew why Azalea was the way she was. And there was no way Zinnia could blame her. After everything they’ve been through, she couldn’t be angry with her. At the end of the day, they were all they had. Azalea was always there for her, protecting her from the criminals, putting food on the table and the clothes on her back. Zinnia would’ve died long ago in the Ratway if it wasn’t for Azalea. So Azalea couldn’t have truly abandoned her, right?

“They were after you, Azalea,” Zinnia said quietly without meeting her sister’s gaze. “They thought I was you.” 

“I know. It was all just a big understanding,” Azalea responded. “I owe you one big for putting you through that. I’ll make it up to you. I promise I will.” 

What could Azalea _possibly_ do to make it up to Zinnia? She wanted to know. 

“Why were they after you in the first place?” 

Azalea shrugged, “beats me.” 

“No, you know why. You owe me that much to tell me why,” Zinnia insisted. “When were you going to tell me about the Dark Brotherhood?” 

“Do we have to talk about this now? Do you really gotta ruin the moment like that?” Azalea complained with a dramatic eye roll. Zinnia remained silent. “Look, you know that I love the Guild. I am a proud member of the Thieves Guild above all else. But you know that we’ve been struggling for coin with the Guild’s reputation going south and everything.”

“So you’re working for the Dark Brotherhood now?” 

“It’s just a little bit on the side, Zinnie! It’s nothing serious, all right? I’m only doing what I have to do, for the both of us,” Azalea protested. 

“You don’t have to do anything for me, Azalea. I’ve got a good life here in Whiterun,” Zinnia assured. “So you can quit the Dark Brotherhood. And you can go home to Riften.” 

“How can you have a good life without me?” Azalea asked teasingly. “Whatcha been up to?” 

“Don’t you have a job to do?” Zinnia asked impatiently. The last thing Zinnia wanted to do was tell Azalea about the Companions. She had a good thing going with them and feared that Azalea would interfere with that. The Companions were honorable people. Azalea was not. What would the Companions think of her knowing her twin was a wanted criminal? 

“Yeah. Wanna come with?” 

“No.” 

“Come on! Please? What else are you going to do?” 

“As a matter of fact, I have plans.” Azalea cocked an eyebrow. “Now if you excuse me, I’m going to be late.” 

“You? Have plans? Where are you going?” Azalea questioned. Now it was Zinnia’s turn to roll her eyes. 

“It’s nothing. I just have some work to do,” Azalea opened her mouth, “and no, you can’t come with me.” 

“Why not?” Azalea pouted. 

“Because this is a one-person kind of job. I’m making my own money, Azalea. Now I’ll be making as much as you, if not more.”

“What, like a competition?” 

“No, of course not.” It was _always_ a competition. “I’m saying that you don’t need to worry about me anymore.” If she ever did at all. “Now, please, I’ve got work to do.” 

“Fine!” Azalea whined. “Sounds very boring to me but whatever floats your boat, sister. I’m just glad to see you’re finally getting out!” Zinnia said nothing. “Promise me we’ll catch up later, all right?” Promises meant nothing to Azalea. “Drinks are on me!” More like on whichever poor Nord she can get her hands on. “We can go to Honningbrew together! I heard it was to die for!” 

“Can I go now?” 

“Promise?” 

“Bye, Azalea.” Zinnia was already heading downhill. Azalea pulled her hood back over her face as she watched Zinnia go and chuckled darkly. 

Zinnia walked briskly to the Whiterun Stables with her head held high with newfound determination. Azalea was back in her life and under her skin already. But Zinnia didn’t want to push her back out either. It would’ve been easier if Azalea had never set foot in Whiterun in the first place. It would’ve been easier if Zinnia never saw her again. But she did. They talked. And now Zinnia felt herself forgiving her. Maybe it was all just a big misunderstanding. 

But that also didn’t mean Zinnia was going to leave the Companions either. Even after seeing her sister again, she knew that this was still the place she wanted to be, with or without Azalea. 

“Excuse me,” Zinnia approached a tall man tending the horses. He turned around and Zinnia cleared her voice, forcing confidence in her tone. “Are you Skulvar Sable-Hilt?” 

“Yes, ma’am. Looking to buy a warhorse?” He answered gruffly. Just like every other Nord in Skyrim, he towered over Zinnia. The other thing she immediately noticed was his large muscles clearly visible under his shirt. 

_Just remember what Farkas taught you_ , she reminded herself internally. 

“No thank you,” she took a deep breath and folded her arms. “I’m with the Companions. I’ve been sent to resolve a dispute.” 

* * *

Azalea sauntered her way to the gates of Whiterun but was stopped by the guards just as she approached the city. 

“Halt. What business do you have in Whiterun?” A male voice asked from under the helmet. 

“I’m here to see a friend,” Azalea answered. 

“The city is closed unless you have a key or an invitation from Dragonsreach,” the guard informed. Azalea rolled her eyes from under her hood. She patted her chest and fished through her pockets. 

“I could’ve sworn I had that key somewhere!” The guard watched Azalea make a dramatic show of looking for a key she never had. “Gosh, I must’ve dropped it on my way here. I’ve traveled very far to see my friend here. Please, sir, can we overlook this?” 

The guard snorted, “I’m afraid not. I know Thieves’ Guild armor when I see it, you’re not fooling anybody. No key, no entrance. Move along.” 

Azalea frowned. So much for that. She’d scale the wall if the sun wasn’t as high as it was now. She turned away from the guard and walked to the awning at the edge of the hill that overlooked the Whiterun Hold. She leaned over the wall, searching for where her sister had wandered off to that was supposedly so important. 

The sunlight reflecting off Zinnia’s fair hair caught Azalea’s attention. Zinnia was at the Whiterun Stables, locked in a fistfight with the stable master. Azalea watched Zinnia take a punch to the face that sent her to the dirt. And she didn’t get back up. 

In an instant, Azalea was dashing down the hill to her sister’s side. The stable master was walking away from Zinnia, who was struggling to get on her hands and knees. 

“Hey!” Azalea called angrily as she marched up to the stable master. As soon as he whipped his head around, Azalea’s fist connected with his jaw. Skulvar staggered backward into a wooden post. She swiftly brought her foot to his groin and another fist to the face when he lurched forward. 

Naturally, he was pissed. 

“You bitch!” 

But that’s exactly what Azalea wanted. Skulvar lunged for her but she evaded him and drove an elbow into the back of his skull. Before Skulvar could straighten himself, Azalea rained punches on his body, from his abdomen to his chest, to his throat, to his jaw. 

Skulvar lunged at Azalea again with a furious roar and tackled her into the same wooden post she previously knocked him into. She immediately grabbed a bottle of Honningbrew Mead from the top of a nearby barrel and smashed it against his head, then promptly headbutted him. She kicked him away from her and brought him down on his knees with another. 

“I yield! I yield!” Skulvar wheezed, clutching his bloodied face. Azalea didn’t care. She kicked him in the head one final time and pinned him with her boot. 

“Azalea!” Zinnia was on her feet and at her sister’s side. 

“There’s two of you?” Skulvar blinked. Azalea’s hood had fallen down in the fight and he couldn’t focus his gaze on either of the girls. 

“Don’t make me come back here again,” Azalea spat. 

“You have my word! Tell the Companions you have my word!” Skulvar begged. Zinnia pulled Azalea away from Skulvar and they left him there to recover. 

“Are you okay?” Azalea scanned Zinnia for injuries. She had a black eye, a busted lip, and an ugly bruise on her jaw. “Damn, he beat the shit outta you.”

Zinnia groaned, “he did _not_.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Say whatever you want. I saw you eating dirt,” Azalea teased. Zinnia rolled her eyes. “Got any potions on you?” 

Zinnia did not. Zinnia lost all of her possessions when she was taken to Helgen. The only things she had were the clothes on her back and the sword at her waist. 

“No, but I can heal myself,” Zinnia reassured, lifting a glowing hand. Azalea smiled. 

“Good.” 

Zinnia healed her black eye first and then her lip until she ran out of Magicka. Her lip was only half-healed and she never got to heal the bruise on her jaw. 

“Well, that’s as good as it’s going to get,” Zinnia muttered under her breath. She supposed that she shouldn’t be walking into Jorrvaskr fully healed anyway. She doubted the Companions would care for her magical abilities, even if they were restoration. 

Oh gods, _the Companions_. What was she going to do? She just failed her first job! And here Zinnia thought she outgrew being protected by her sister. What was she going to say to them? How could she possibly tell them what happened? 

“Hey, what’s with the face?” Azalea asked, knitting her brows together. Zinnia swallowed. Maybe Azalea should have never come to Whiterun. 

“Nothing. I need a drink,” Zinnia grumbled. 

“Excellent idea, sister! Lead the way!” Azalea urged with a wide grin. Zinnia began to make her way back up the hill to the gates, Azalea with her hood up once again and glued to her side. 

“Don’t you have a job to do?” Zinnia asked. Azalea’s smile only grew. 

“Yes, actually. I’m so glad you brought that up,” Azalea replied cheerfully. “You see, I need your help.” 

Zinnia stopped, “what?” 

“Oh, don’t give me that look, Zin Zin! I’m not asking much!” Azalea protested. “I just need your help getting into Whiterun. Apparently you need a key to the city or an invite from the Jarl. Got either of those?” 

She did. 

“If they don’t want you in the city, then I can’t help you, Azalea,” Zinnia said slowly. 

“The city is just on high alert with the war going on,” Azalea countered. “I’m not here to cause trouble. I’m just here to meet up with a contact for the job and then I’ll be out of everyone’s hair. That’s it.” 

“If you so much as to mess with _one_ lock--”

“I won’t, Zinnie!” 

“Fine. Come on.” Azalea was grinning from ear to ear under her hood and had a spring in her step. Zinnia expected the gates to open for her, just as they had when she exited the city and frowned when the guard stopped the pair. 

“Halt. Didn’t I just send you away?” The guard asked Azalea. 

“I found my key,” Azalea replied coolly. Zinnia reached into her pocket and produced the key to the city. 

“She’s with me, sir,” Zinnia informed politely. “I’m a Thane in the Jarl’s court.” 

Azalea’s mouth fell open and she stared at Zinnia, stunned. 

“Ah, now I remember. Forgive me, Thane. You two shall enter,” the guard shifted his gaze back onto Azalea. “But I’ve got my eye on you. You better keep your hands to yourself.”

“You have my word, sir,” Zinnia injected. Azalea’s mouth melted back into a satisfied smile as the pair entered the city. The other guards nodded at Zinnia in acknowledgment. Zinnia, on the other hand, still didn’t know how to react to the recognition, so she hastily gave them a weak smile but kept her eyes on the ground like always. 

“Thane? _Thane?_ ” Azalea shrieked happily. “How’d you manage that? Who’d you sleep with?” 

“What? No one!” 

“It was the Jarl, wasn’t it?” 

“No!” 

Azalea burst out laughing as Zinnia’s cheeks flushed. 

“Come on! Lighten up, Zin!” Azalea chortled, slapping Zinnia on the back. “I’m sure you did something very honorable to earn that title. You got yourself a house I can crash at?” 

Zinnia looked longingly at the house for sale, Breezehome, as they strolled past it. “Well, not yet…” 

“What? You’re a Thane but you don’t own a house yet? Maybe I oughta sleep with someone for ya!”

“Azalea!” 

Azalea was doubled over laughing. Zinnia quickened her pace away from the Guild member. She was ready for this conversation to be over. 

“Thanks for helping me out back there. I really appreciate it,” Azalea chimed. “Say, can I borrow some clothes?” 

“Sure! Lemme just grab the ragged clothes I got from the Legion!” Zinnia said mockingly. 

Azalea’s grin faltered. She was still mad about that. _Lovely._

“Look, I need to wear something normal for this job,” Azalea explained. “They’re going to know something’s up if I show up in this armor.”

“Well, you should’ve thought about that when you took the job from Brynjolf in the first place.”

“Funny story! You’ll never guess who gave me this job.” Azalea waited for Zinnia to guess, but she offered none. “This job came directly from the mouth of Maven Black-Briar.” 

“Maven Black-Briar?” Zinnia repeated, raising her eyebrows. 

“The one and only,” Azalea bragged. “She asked for yours truly specifically for this job.” 

“Azalea, you should not be involving yourself with Maven Black-Briar. She’s bad news.” 

“She’s only the most powerful person in Riften, and probably all of Skyrim!” Azalea countered. “Of course I’m going to do this job for her. If I get in Maven Black-Briar’s good favor, we’re set for life, Zinnie. Maven is the best ally anyone could possibly have.” 

“She’s so manipulative, Azalea. She’s dangerous,” Zinnia warned. 

“I’m dangerous too,” Azalea yawned. Zinnia rolled her eyes. She’s gone for, what, four days? And Azalea’s already getting herself into trouble? She couldn’t let this happen. 

Azalea stopped Zinnia at the bottom of the steps of the Bannered Mare. “Here, buy yourself a drink and one for me,” she commanded, placing the gold pieces in Zinnia’s palm. “I’m going to get myself some clothes. I’ll be right back.” 

“Azalea,” Zinnia’s tone was a warning for her. She gave that look that Azalea absolutely _loathed_ , the only thing in this world that had her using the word “loathed.” 

“Talos, lighten _up_ , Zinnie. I’m not going to be gone long. You can strike up a nice conversation with the innkeeper while I’m away.” 

Zinnia knew exactly what Azalea was doing. Azalea wanted Zinnia to talk with the innkeeper. It was a distraction so Azalea could sneak into one of the rooms and steal clothes. Zinnia wanted none of it. But there was no stopping Azalea. And Zinnia couldn’t walk away from her either. 

Zinnia’s lips formed a tight line. She said nothing to her sister and stormed through the doors of the Bannered Mare. She needed that drink _now_. 

_That’s her girl._ If there was one thing Azalea could count on in this unforgiving world, it was her sister. She’d bet on Zinnia every time. So while Zinnia sat down at the bar and ordered a large drink, Azalea slipped into the background until disappearing into the mead hall’s kitchen to find Mallus Maccius. All according to plan. 

Until she bumped into someone. And since she wasn’t paying attention, she _really_ bumped into this person. The man didn’t budge. Azalea, on the other hand, did. She stumbled. Her hood fell back. But, thank the gods, she remained on her feet. 

“New blood,” a gruff voice greeted. Azalea paled. It wasn’t Mallus. It was a Nord twice her size, dressed in steel armor, with messy brown hair that fell to his shoulders and dark warpaint around his silver-colored eyes. His face broke into a toothy smile at Azalea. “Did you finish the job?” 

“Yes?” 

“Good! I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure if you had it in you, Zinnia,” he admitted. Azalea suppressed a snort. Zinnia didn’t have it in her, she knew. But Azalea was a good sister. And like all good sisters, she’s going to lie for her sister. 

“There’s a lot more to me than you may realize,” Azalea responded. 

“Kind of fun to push people around sometimes, isn’t it? Good work, sister!” 

Azalea grinned, the words dripping from her tongue, “I wholeheartedly agree, _brother._ ” 

“I don’t have your pay on me right now, but I have it back at Jorrvaskr. Want to head back with me?” he offered. 

“You know I’d love to, but I can’t. I’ve got someone to see,” Azalea said breezily with a flip of her hair.

“All right then. I guess I’ll catch you at dinner then.” But before they could part ways, the man frowned at Azalea and furrowed his brow, taking in her appearance. “Say, did you change your clothes?” 

Azalea inwardly groaned. She was in her Thieves Guild armor, while Zinnia had worn hide armor. The big oaf was studying her but she hoped he didn’t recognize the faction. 

“What, this old thing?” Azalea batted her eyelashes. “I had to change my clothes because I had gotten some blood on my other ones. Not my blood, of course.” 

His frown lifted into a smile, “oh I get it. You must’ve had a really good fight then, huh?” 

He bought it. The big oaf bought it without a shadow of a doubt. And here Azalea was coming up with a whole elaborate story and an escape plan. 

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” 

He laughed, “good to hear! I’m glad you’re getting the hang of things around here. I think you’ll fit in just fine.” 

“Ya know, I think so too.” Wherever “here” was. “Listen, thanks for the chat, but I gotta get going. Can’t keep my friend waiting. But I’ll definitely be catching you later.” 

Azalea side-stepped around the Nord and made her way up the stairs to where Mallus was waiting for her. 

* * *

Before Zinnia could drown herself in mead, someone had come up from behind her and said, “finished your job early, whelp?” 

Zinnia, startled, nearly choked on her mead as the culprit took a seat on the stool beside her. 

“Vilkas,” Zinnia coughed. “What are you doing here?” 

“I asked you a question, whelp,” Vilkas clipped. Zinnia swallowed. What in Talos’s name was she supposed to do? 

“Yeah, the job’s finished.” Technically, it was true. Zinnia bit her lip under Vilkas’s scrutinizing gaze. His silver eyes seemed to pierce right through her and she nervously picked at the hem of her armor. 

“How did it go?” he asked after a pause. 

“Well, uh, it was all right,” Vilkas waited for her to continue. “It was tough but I was able to make Skulvar submit. He won’t be bothering anyone in Whiterun anymore.” 

Vilkas nodded but remained silent. Why Farkas gave Zinnia such a job was beyond him. He expected to hear from Skulvar to come pick up the Breton’s unconscious body from the stables. But Vilkas looked closely at her features. There was sweat on her brow, dirt on her cheeks and chin. Her lip looked like it was recovering from a nasty blow. Some of her exposed skin on her chest and shoulders began to look discolored as bruises formed. All telltale signs of a fight. 

“Why do you have two drinks?” Vilkas suddenly asked, noticing the two bottles of mead on the counter. 

_Shit._

“I answered your question, now you answer mine,” Zinnia countered boldly. Vilkas couldn’t mask his surprise at the new blood’s quick tongue. It was a fair point. 

“I’m here with my brother,” Vilkas answered. “We like to come here sometimes to take a break from Jorrvaskr. Farkas likes to talk to the ladies.” 

“Do you?” 

“I believe it’s your turn to answer my question,” Vilkas threw back. Zinnia rolled her eyes. They really were going to back and forth like this, huh? The intensity held in his gaze told her he was serious. 

“I’m celebrating.” Again, technically true. “For finishing my first ever job with the Companions. And this is how I celebrate. One drink for each hand.” 

Vilkas suppressed a snort. He doubted her tiny body could handle one bottle of Nord mead, let alone two. What a strange woman she was indeed. He wasn’t sure if he liked her or not. 

“Here, you should take one,” Zinnia pushed a bottle towards him. 

“I don’t want to ruin your ‘celebration,’” Vilkas protested. 

“It’s probably best if I stick to one drink anyway. The last thing we need is for me to return to Jorrvaskr inebriated on my first day, right?” 

“You wouldn’t be the first,” Vilkas muttered, recalling the first time he met Torvar. He took the bottle by the neck and nodded at Zinnia as a thank you before taking a sip. Zinnia took a drink of hers as well. “There will be plenty of celebrating tonight, though.” 

“Really?” Zinnia asked with raised eyebrows, setting down her drink. “For what?” 

“For your accomplishment today. What else could we be celebrating?” 

“I don’t know, it’s my first day!” Zinnia huffed. And just like that, the guilt entered Zinnia’s body. “I don’t think we need to make a big fuss. I just straightened a guy out is all. No need to get all the Companions involved.” 

The guilt gnawed at her insides. She bit the inside of her cheek. This was wrong. She hated this. She hated lying to Vilkas and the Companions. It was her first job and she wasn’t even the one who finished it. Yet here she was, taking credit for something that she didn’t do. Now all the Companions were going to congratulate her? For a lie? This was so wrong. 

“We celebrate every time the new blood finishes their first job,” Vilkas stated. If only she actually finished her first job in the first place… 

“Well, uh, thanks…” 

“Try not to sleep through it.” Zinnia’s jaw fell open. Even _Vilkas_ was making a joke about her this morning. 

“That was an accident!” 

Just then, Zinnia caught Azalea moving in the shadows along the walls of the inn undetected to all but her. Azalea looked at Zinnia and winked at her before slipping out the back door. Vilkas noticed Zinnia’s distracted look and frowned. 

“What are you looking at?” he asked, snapping her attention back to him. 

“Nothing!” she answered as she quickly got to her feet. “I’ve got to go now. I’ll see you at home tonight. Bye!” 

And just like that, the gold was on the counter and Zinnia was out the door after her sister. 

Vilkas watched her as she left, a frown etched deep into his face. He glanced at her mead, noting she had barely drank a third of it when she abruptly left. Whatever it was, he knew it wasn’t any of his business. But it still bothered him. Her behavior was strange, unpredictable, mysterious--none of which were noble qualities, especially for that of a Companion. What was Zinnia truly after? 

When Zinnia walked behind the Bannered Mare, she found Azalea pulling a neatly folded dress out from under her Thieves Guild armor. In the shadow of the building, Azalea discarded her armor and threw the green dress over her head. 

“What do you think, Zin Zin? Fits like a glove, huh?” Azalea asked with a smile as her sister approached. Zinnia scowled at her. 

“I hate it when you do this,” Zinnia grumbled. 

“There were tons of other clothes in the dresser. She’s not going to miss this ugly one,” Azalea assured smoothly. Zinnia’s scowl worsened. “ _And_ I’ll put it right back where I found it. Better?” 

“No.” 

Azalea only laughed. _How can she be so carefree?_ Zinnia wondered. And she’ll never know. Once Azalea had her laugh, she took a step forward, her features turning serious. 

“I’m going to need your help again, sister.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you guys think? I really wanted Azalea to be likable, even though she has a really complicated relationship with Zinnia. And I really hope Zinnia's personality is starting to get fleshed out now. Tell me your thoughts!
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3


	4. Dampened Spirit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have much to say about this chapter! I'm not really sure how I feel about it tbh. I know I'm struggling with capturing the Companions' voices but hopefully I'll get a chance to improve myself with the next chapter. 
> 
> Thank you, everyone, for leaving comments and kudos. I can't tell you how much I appreciate them! I'm glad you guys are liking this story and I hope y'all continue to do so. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy this chapter! <3

“No.” 

“Come on!”

“No.” 

“Please?” 

“Nope.” 

“Pretty please?”

“Nu-uh.” 

“I’ll split the profit with you!” 

“Would you give it a rest, Azalea?” Zinnia snapped angrily but Azalea’s puppy dog eyes did not waver. 

“Please, Zinnie. I need you,” Azalea begged. 

“If this is for Maven Black-Briar, I’m not getting involved.” It was. Zinnia knew that. Azalea only smiled at her sister. “If you couldn’t do this job on your own, then you probably shouldn’t have taken it in the first place. Or, at least, have taken someone with you.” 

“I _can_ do this job,” Azalea protested. She strapped a dagger under each sleeve, and then two more underneath her skirt. “but I can do it _better_ with you.” 

That was bullshit. Azalea has never, _ever_ asked for help on a job before, let alone ask her sister who was good at absolutely nothing except escaping death by the hair. 

“What do I possibly have to offer?” 

Azalea’s grin only widened as she slung her pack over her shoulder. She then proceeded to throw an arm over Zinnia’s shoulders and started pulling her down the cobblestone road. 

“I’m so _glad_ you asked, Zin Zin,” Azalea purred, “First of all, wouldn’t you agree that two heads are better than one?” 

“For this specific instance, no.”

“The answer is _always_ yes, Zinnie. In every instance, two heads are always better than one.”

“Then why didn’t you bring someone from the Guild? Or your new pals in the Dark Brotherhood? I’m sure you’d rather have them around than me,” Zinnia grumbled. 

“You are _so_ unfair!” Azalea whined, retracting her arm. “Like you’ve got room to talk!” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I mean the _Companions!_ Why were you trying to hide that from me?” The thief demanded. 

“How do you know about that?” 

“You’re awful at keeping secrets, Zinnie,” Azalea deadpanned. “It wasn’t hard to figure out. Your new job included kicking some guy’s ass and he was begging me to tell the Companions that he’ll behave. And then I ran into one of them back there who thought I was you and was going on and on--”

Zinnia stopped in her tracks and whirled toward her sister, “Wait, you saw _who?”_

“I dunno. Some guy. I totally covered you, by the way. The big oaf had no idea I wasn’t you, and I was in Thieves Guild armor and everything,” there was a twinkle of pride in her violet eyes. “At least he was hot.” 

Farkas, Zinnia guessed. Vilkas said he was there with Farkas. Unless it _was_ Vilkas and that’s why Vilkas came up to her and asked her about the job because he was testing her again. Oh, gods, _who was it?_

“Who was it?” she demanded. 

“I said I don’t know!” Azalea countered. “He was tall! Smiley! Long, brown hair! Grey eyes! Beard! He wore steel armor! Looked like somebody’s housecarl!” 

Farkas. _Definitely Farkas._

Zinnia still didn’t feel any better. 

“Did you flirt with him?” Zinnia questioned. Azalea only laughed at her reaction. 

“It doesn’t matter what I did--”

“That’s not an answer, Azalea.” 

“Anyway,” Zinnia rolled her eyes, “I did you a favor. In fact, I did you _two_ huge favors today. So you owe me. Help me out with this job, and we’re even.” 

“I never _asked_ for your help, Azalea,” Zinnia angrily pointed out, balling her hands into fists. 

“You didn’t have to!” Azalea threw her hands up. “By the Nine, Zin, you’re getting your ass handed to you and you think that I’m just going to stand there and watch?”

“I would’ve rather you did! Because at least I’d have some dignity!” 

Azalea remained quiet, watching Zinnia’s hard expression collapse into sorrow. 

“That was my very first, real job from the Companions. I wanted to prove to them that I could do it and that I belonged there,” the Dragonborn confessed quietly. 

“You don’t belong there,” Azalea said coldly, “You belong in Riften. What are you even doing there?” 

Zinnia did not reply. She didn’t know what she was doing. The only thing she did know was that she wasn’t ever going back to Riften again. 

“I want to do this,” Zinnia stated. “And I don’t want you to do it for me ever again.” 

That didn’t answer Azalea’s question. But she supposed that Zinnia never had her teenage rebellion like she did, so she’ll let her have it now. Azalea knew her sister. She knew her sister wouldn’t be able to handle the Companions and she would come running back to Riften in no time. The Companions can call her “sister” all they want but they would never be a family to her. She was the only family Zinnia needed. Not the orphanage, not the Companions, her. Azalea. 

“All right, all right. I get it,” she didn’t, “Look, what the Companions don’t know won’t hurt them.” 

“But I’ll be lying to them,” Zinnia protested. 

“Like I said, _what the Companions don’t know won’t hurt them_ ,” Azalea repeated, “You can make it up to them on the next job. It’ll be fine, Zinnie. Don’t get in your own way.” 

_Easier said than done,_ Zinnia mused. She knew Azalea was trying to be helpful but she could never know how Zinnia truly felt. And Zinnia didn’t know how to explain it to her. It’s just easier to put her feelings aside. 

“All right,” Zinnia caved with a heavy sigh. “What’s this so-called special job for Maven Black-Briar?” 

“Walk with me,” Azalea pulled her along the road again towards the gates. “I’ll tell you about this job and you can tell me about the hottie I ran into. And the one you were talking to at the bar.” 

* * *

Farkas took a seat at the bar beside his brother and waved Hulda over. 

“Enjoying yourself, are you?” Vilkas asked him. 

“I will be once I have some mead,” Farkas replied. Vilkas looked at his bottle--the bottle from Zinnia--and noticed it was almost empty. Hulda placed a bottle in front of Farkas but when she was going to give another one to Vilkas, he simply put his hand up. 

After a long drink, Farkas said, “I just saw Zinnia.” 

“Yeah, me too.” 

“She finished her job. And she didn’t even have a scratch on her,” Farkas informed with a twinkle of pride in his silver eyes. Vilkas furrowed his brow. 

“Yes, she did. On her lip,” Vilkas argued. It was quite obvious. 

“Hm. I must’ve missed that then…” Farkas muttered. “But the important thing is that the job is done. She did it all by herself.”

“You taught her well.” 

“I can see why Kodlak likes her so much. She’ll fit right in with us,” Farkas continued. 

Vilkas only hummed. He disagreed. Zinnia wasn’t much. She’s going to have to work a lot harder to cement her place among the Companions. She had spirit but you could argue the same thing with the rest of the whelps. She’s just like the rest of them. But Vilkas knew his brother liked to be friendly with everyone and always especially got excited when a new face joined them. 

“Did she say where she was going?” Vilkas asked. He couldn’t resist. 

“No. Just that she was going to see a friend,” Farkas answered and took a drink. 

“Do you know who her friend is?” 

“Does it matter?”

Yes. 

“No.” 

* * *

First, Zinnia tried to turn around in their walk to Honningbrew Meadery. Then she tried to talk Azalea out of it, which Azalea was having none of. This job was going to get done. 

The plan seemed straightforward and simple. Zinnia and Azalea will go to Honningbrew Meadery and offer their services to Sabjorn to exterminate his sudden and convenient skeever problem. How they got there in the first place, Azalea was sure to leave that part out.

He’ll give them access to the interior of the meadery which would lead them to the boilery where Azalea will poison the vat of mead. Azalea assured her that the poison wasn’t strong enough to kill anybody, just enough to taste bad, and put Sabjorn out of business. All so Maven Black-Briar can set up camp in Whiterun.

Zinnia hated every second of it. She hated being part of such deceit. But Azalea made it easy. She was the one who did the talking. However, Azalea couldn’t _resist_ boasting that Zinnia was a member of the Companions. That’s what sold Sabjorn on the two. Sabjorn was going to reach out to the Companions to do this job in the first place. How freaking convenient. 

It was even more sickening for Zinnia to be dragging the Companions into this. If things didn’t go to plan, Zinnia would lose her place with them forever. 

But that’s how Zinnia and Azalea worked. Zinnia was always there for her to clean up the mess, no matter the expense. That’s what sisters were for, right?

Things were actually _fine_ in the tunnels. Skeevers were easy to kill. Zinnia actually didn’t almost die this time _and_ she didn’t need to rely on her sister’s protection. But the Frostbite Spiders...Azalea also conveniently forgot to mention that. Thank Julianos for Azalea’s Destruction magic. 

But then--then things got bad. When the twins got to the skeever’s nest, they quickly found out there was a madman living there as well. Azalea conveniently had her Dragonskin activated, absorbing the explosion from a sudden fireball that smashed Zinnia into the wall. The man quickly figured out Zinnia was the weaker one and pounced on her. Zinnia knew he would’ve killed her at least three times if Azalea wasn’t there. Ultimately, after he chased Zinnia around the nest, they killed him. 

No harm, no foul, right? 

Azalea had _the audacity_ to ask that. But she was already leaving Zinnia behind so she didn’t have to talk about what just happened. A heavy silence draped over the sisters as they continued their trek through the tunnels. They got to the boilery and Azalea’s real work began. 

“Are you mad at me?” Azalea called from the loft. Zinnia folded her arms and leaned against a wooden post, exasperated. 

“Oh, of course not, dear sister. I’ve always dreamed of getting chased by a madman in a skeever’s nest,” Zinnia’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “You didn’t even ask if I was okay!” 

“I thought you were okay!” 

Zinnia sighed and brought her fingertips to her temples. Arguing with Azalea was like arguing with a mammoth. It wasn’t going to go anywhere. 

“Are you done yet?” she finally asked her sister, itching to get out of there already. 

“Just about!” 

“How can I believe you’re not going to kill anybody? You lied to me about that crazy man living down there,” Zinnia questioned. 

“I didn’t _lie_ about anything, Zin Zin,” Azalea protested. “And this is a job for the Guild. You know the rules. No killing.” 

Zinnia snorted in disbelief, “that didn’t stop you at Goldenglow.” 

“That was so different!” Azalea let out an irritated groan. Nothing got under Azalea’s skin more than when her own sister didn’t trust her. “Fine, I’ll prove it to you! Just watch!” 

Azalea stomped down from the loft and searched for something--anything--to fill with the poisoned mead. She found a mug and poured herself the mead from the tap. 

“No! Wait--”

But Azalea already brought the contaminated drink to her lips and took a big swig. She gagged loudly and carelessly dropped the mead onto the floor, spilling it everywhere. 

“See?” she coughed. “Poisoned but I’m still alive.” 

“What did you do that for?” Zinnia shrieked. “You could’ve gotten hurt!” 

“You’re the one who didn’t believe me!” 

“Yeah but that doesn’t mean you should drink poison!” 

“It’s fine! I’m fine! You’re just overreacting!” 

“You’re insufferable!” 

The sisters groaned irritatedly at each other. Azalea blew a strand of hair out of her face. 

“C’mon. We have to go tell Sabjorn we finished the job.” She didn’t wait for Zinnia as she turned on her heel, swiped the boilery keys off the hook, and went out the door. 

“You. You’re going to tell Sabjorn. I’m done,” Zinnia announced, trailing behind Azalea. Azalea whirled back to her sister. 

“You can’t back out now! We’re _done!”_

“What we did was wrong and you know it,” Zinnia stated firmly. She planted herself on the cobblestone with no intention to set foot in Honningbrew Meadery again. 

“All right. Fine. Be that way! I’m taking your share!” 

Azalea stomped over to the meadery. Zinnia planted herself on the cobblestone with no intention to follow after her this time. Why couldn’t Azalea see the problem with this? Why does Azalea always choose to do the wrong thing? Time and time again, Azalea makes the wrong decision. She shouldn’t be associating herself with Maven Black-Briar. She shouldn’t be doing dirty work for the Thieves Guild. She shouldn’t be _killing people_ with the Dark Brotherhood. 

Zinnia didn’t understand. She couldn’t wrap her mind around it. She thought that once they got out of Honorhall, things would get better for them. But Azalea continued deeper down this dark path in the years since. If it screamed danger, she just couldn’t resist, like she _needed_ it. What would become of her? Zinnia didn’t know how she could reach her sister and pull her back from this darkness without sinking into it herself. 

The sun was setting and Azalea was still inside the meadery. Zinnia sat on the fence and waited. Even though she didn’t want to be involved anymore, she wasn’t ready to walk away from her sister just yet. She leaped to her feet when she heard the door to the meadery creak open and was shocked to see Sabjorn shoved out by Commander Caius. 

It worked. The plan had worked. But Azalea didn’t emerge. Zinnia watched the Commander take Sabjorn down the road back to Whiterun until they became just a speck in the distance. When Azalea remained absent, Zinnia hesitantly approached the meadery. The job was done. Where on Nirn was she?

Just as Zinnia reached out to open the door, it flew open and Azalea stood before her with a satisfied smile. Zinnia knew that smile. Azalea always wore that smile whenever she finished a job for the Guild and was flushed with coin or stolen goods. 

“Wow, I thought you would’ve been cozying up with your new family by now,” Azalea drawled. 

“Did you really have to steal things too? Wasn’t poisoning the mead enough?” Zinnia complained. 

“It’s not like Sabjorn is going to be using this stuff anytime soon,” the elder twin deadpanned. 

There was a pause before Zinnia asked quietly, “what now?” 

“I’m heading back to Riften.” As frustrating as her sister’s visit has been, Zinnia felt her heart sink. “You know how it goes. Gotta report back and all.” 

“You’re making a mistake,” Zinnia pleaded. “With Maven Black-Briar. You don’t have to do this.” 

“It’s already done,” Azalea clipped. Her eyes softened. “We’re set for life now, Zinnie. Come home with me. Everyone misses you.” 

_Lie,_ Zinnia thought. Zinnia was not and will never be a member of Riften’s Thieves Guild like her twin sister. However, since Azalea was a popular member of the Guild, the Guild had always treated Zinnia like she was their own. Brynjolf constantly asked her to make it official and Zinnia always denied. They only treated her well because of Azalea. So there was no way they could possibly miss someone like her. 

“Riften’s not my home anymore.” 

“The Companions aren’t your home either,” Azalea hissed, her expression turning cold, “you don’t belong there. You’re only going to get yourself killed. You’ll be safe in Riften. You’ll never have to work a day in your life.” 

It was true and Zinnia knew it. But that’s not the life she wanted to live. 

“It’s not a good place for me. I’m making a new life here in Whiterun,” the Dragonborn said calmly. 

“I killed Grelod.” 

Zinnia blinked, “you what?” 

“I killed her,” Azalea repeated. “She deserved it.” 

Grelod the Kind. The headmistress of Honorhall Orphanage in Riften. That horrible woman had made the twins’ life a living nightmare for over a decade. They had a very different relationship with that woman. Zinnia always strived to be in Grelod’s good favor in hopes that would make her less cruel. It didn’t. And Azalea did the exact opposite. 

Yeah, she did deserve it, Zinnia won’t deny it. 

“What about the kids?” she finally asked. 

“They’re in good hands now. Constance took over and now they can actually get adopted,” Azalea answered. “Riften’s becoming a better place now, Zinnie. Just come back and you’ll see.” 

The offer was tempting. It was so tempting. Things were going to be okay. The years of suffering they had endured together were coming to an end. They wouldn’t be fighting for scraps or sleeping with the skeevers anymore. Zinnia would never have to see Grelod again. She’d never have to worry about her next meal or getting a good night’s rest. 

But she knew what going back meant. Going back meant forever trailing behind Azalea, constantly cleaning up after her and nobody taking her seriously. Riften was better off without Zinnia and Zinnia was better off without Riften. 

“I’m sorry, Azalea,” Zinnia murmured, “but I can’t be a part of that anymore.” 

Azalea looked away and took a step back. 

“Fine. You know where to find me,” was all she said before turning on her heel. 

“Wait,” Zinnia called. “Don’t you need to get your armor?” 

“Nah. It’s not mine anyway. I borrowed that set from Vex,” Azalea said with a chuckle. “Keep it as a memento so you don’t forget about me.” Zinnia raised her eyebrows. 

“ _Now_ who’s overreacting?” 

Azalea threw her head back and laughed. Zinnia couldn't help but giggle too. Azalea's laugh was contagious. Then, she stopped. Azalea reached into her pack and produced a coin pouch. 

"Here's your share," Azalea shoved it into Zinnia's hands. 

"I thought you said you were taking my share."

Azalea rolled her eyes but squeezed Zinnia's hands, "you're clearly going to need it more than I will."

"Shut up!" 

Azalea lowered her hands and backed away from Zinnia with her lips curved into a smile. 

"Thanks for your help today. I seriously owe you one," she said softly. 

There were two things Azalea _rarely_ ever said _and_ meant: "I'm sorry" and "thank you." This was a time where she meant it.

"I've always got your back," Zinnia dismissed with a wave of her hand. 

"And I've got yours." 

And then the two sisters went their separate ways. Zinnia couldn’t help but look back at her sister’s shrinking silhouette and the sight squeezed her heart. This could easily be the last time they see each other. Part of Zinnia felt as though she should’ve used their time better if she had known it was going to be so fleeting. They should’ve spent less time arguing and more time chatting. Less time working on jobs for their factions and more time enjoying each other’s company. Because as much as Azalea drove Zinnia insane, she was her only family. They were still sisters. And she loved her very much. 

The depressed feeling dissipated as Zinnia made her way through the Plains District of Whiterun. It felt as though a weight was lifted. Her shoulders relaxed and she hadn’t realized how tense they were. After everything that’s happened today, Zinnia was looking forward to sitting by the warm hearth in Jorrvaskr with the Companions. 

She was finally free. 


	5. A Party for Zinnia (Azalea)

The sun had long set by the time Zinnia returned but Jorrvaskr was awake and alive with celebration. As soon as she pushed open the large doors, she was greeted with joyous cheers. A feast awaited her on the long table with game no doubt hunted that same day. A bottle of mead was already shoved into her hands as many Companions clapped Zinnia on the back. 

Never has anyone ever been excited to see Zinnia. Never had Zinnia seen so much food laid out for her. Never had so many people congratulated her on her big accomplishment today. Whenever something like this happened, it was for Azalea. The Thieves Guild also liked to celebrate their victories in the Ragged Flagon, and Azalea had a lot of them. Zinnia was simply there. Even now, this celebration was  _ for  _ Azalea. 

_This was going to suck._

Zinnia took a long swig of her mead, which earned her another clap on the back from Torvar. Maybe if she drank enough, it would drown her sorrows. 

She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve any of this. She was lying to their faces. Her first job was a failure. She didn’t accomplish anything. It was Azalea. It was all Azalea. How could she lie to these people? How could she just eat their food and drink their mead like nothing was wrong? Especially _after_ telling them that she had no family? 

Zinnia joined the Companions for a fresh start. She wanted to separate herself from Azalea. She wanted a life of her own. And all of that was negated with just one swing of a fist. Azalea took this from her. She took Zinnia’s memory of her first job with the Companions and tainted it with her generosity. 

But it’s not like Zinnia can tell  _ anyone  _ about this. If she told Farkas, he wouldn’t be inviting her over to sit next to him like he was now. If she told Kodlak, she’d probably be kicked out into the streets of Whiterun. No one as dishonorable as her would be welcome in Jorrvaskr. 

And if she told anyone outside of the Companions about this, she’d be ungrateful, ungrateful for her sister. Azalea was there for her. Azalea protected her. Azalea saved her from getting beaten to death from the stable master. She saved her from the humiliation and shame of returning to Jorrvaskr as a failure. There was no other way to see it. It was an undisputed fact. Azalea did a good thing and Zinnia had no right to resent her for it. 

“Tell me how it went!” Ria said cheerfully. 

Oh, it was a breeze. Zinnia told the stable master to stop bothering people. The stable master told her to fuck off. Punches were exchanged and she ate dirt. See? A breeze. Five minutes, tops. 

Zinnia took another drink. 

“I didn’t do anything spectacular…” she deflected. 

“You don’t have to be so humble with finishing your first job,” Aela asserted. “Did you give him a good thrashing?” 

Azalea did. 

“Did you kick him in the balls?” 

Azalea did. 

“Did you break any of his bones?” 

Azalea did. 

“Did he bleed?”

She bled. 

“What did he say to you afterward?”

He spoke to Azalea. 

Zinnia wanted to shrink into her chair until she disappeared. Everyone wanted answers. But they were asking the wrong person. 

Well,  _ almost _ everyone. Vilkas was quiet from where he sat across the room. Gods, why couldn’t everyone else be like him? 

Thank the Divines, the Harbinger cleared his throat and came to Zinnia’s rescue. 

“Our newest recruit has had a very eventful day,” _that was an understatement,_ “let’s not be badgering her with questions when we have a feast before us.” 

No one could argue with the Harbinger on that. The spread before them was one of the larger ones that they’ve had in a while and looked quite appetizing. Well, it _has_ been some time since the last celebration. They’d say they’ve earned this one. 

Farkas wasn’t joking when he said the food went fast. Everyone laid into the meal like a pack of hungry wolves. But Zinnia saw this coming and quickly filled her plate before anyone else. Their behavior wasn’t anything she wasn’t used to. Zinnia learned at a very young age that if you didn’t move fast, you didn’t eat. She watched Njada swat Torvar's hand away from a good piece of meat. However, all it took was a single look from one of the senior Companions to instantly get the younger blood back in line. Poor Ria looked almost helpless. She clearly hasn’t made the adjustment yet. 

“You weren’t kidding when you said it was a good fight,” Farkas said between bites from his seat beside her. Zinnia furrowed her brow. 

“What do you mean?” 

“There’s a lot of blood on your armor,” Farkas pointed out, taking a large bite out of a drumstick. “How come you changed back into it?” 

What in Oblivion was Farkas talking about? 

Her hide armor was stained with blood. Not her blood, thank the Divines. It was a mixture of the skeevers’ and that damned crazy man in the tunnels. 

But what was Farkas getting at? Was she missing something? 

Her violet eyes widened as the realization dawned on her. Azalea. Azalea had run into Farkas in the Bannered Mare that afternoon. She was able to sweet-talk her way out of letting Farkas know that she wasn’t Zinnia but that’s what ultimately brought Zinnia to this conversation with him now. 

Well, shit. Now what? He was staring at her expectantly with big silver eyes. Zinnia eyed Vilkas nervously. Answering to one brother is difficult enough. But if he picked up on this conversation, they may know something was up. But thank the Divines, Vilkas seemed to be busy conversing with Skjor, or at least Zinnia thought he was. 

“I was, uh, getting too hot in my other armor?” _This is why she always let Azalea do all the talking._

If Farkas didn’t believe her, he didn’t show it. Instead, he produced a coin pouch and dropped it on the table in front of her, badly startling Zinnia in the process. 

“Here’s your coin, as promised.” 

Zinnia felt another pang of guilt and didn’t want the money. But she remembered how badly she needed the money. And Farkas was watching her, so she had no choice but to accept it, lest she wants to confess. 

“Thanks.” 

“You earned it. Good work today.” 

Zinnia chose not to respond and instead picked at her food. She hoped that every day wasn’t going to be like this. Maybe Azalea was right—she can make it up to them with the next job. And maybe the job after that. She can still make it right, even if they don’t know it. 

“So who are you going to pick as your trainer?” Ria asked to fill the silence that settled on their end of the table. 

“My trainer?” 

“Yeah. Every new face chooses a trainer depending on which skills you want to hone,” Ria explained. “how do you prefer to fight?” 

She preferred not to. 

“Uh…” 

“I like to use two-handed weapons. All it takes is one swing to get the job done,” Farkas boasted. 

“But Vilkas is the two-handed trainer,” Ria added. Zinnia glanced at the said man, who was still conversing with Skjor. “Farkas can teach you about armor.”

“I can teach two-handed too,” Farkas said. 

This would all be convenient if Zinnia actually knew how to use a two-handed weapon. But she didn’t. 

“I’m not really sure I’m comfortable with two-handed weapons yet,” Zinnia confessed. 

“So do you prefer one-handed weapons? Because Athis can be your trainer then with that,” Ria pressed. “And Njada can teach you how to block too!” 

At the sound of the Nord woman’s name, Njada threw them a glare. Yeah. Like Njada is going to teach Zinnia anything except how to stay the fuck out of her way. 

“Well…” 

“And Aela is the archery trainer if that’s your style…”

Zinnia’s mind couldn’t help but drift back to Azalea again. Azalea always favored daggers. She always had multiple on her, under her sleeves, strapped to her thighs, and probably in other places Zinnia didn’t want to know about. She liked to throw them, and her aim was spectacular. Very rarely did she ever use ordinary daggers. Zinnia remembered dragging Azalea to bed on numerous occasions after spending hours of the night at the enchantment table in the Cistern. Azalea had repeatedly offered to teach Zinnia how to properly use a weapon. She taught Zinnia the basics, just enough so she could kill a skeever, but Zinnia didn’t want to learn any more than that. She knew one thing would lead to another and before she knew it, she would be initiated into the Guild. But it wasn’t as if it wasn’t a difficult decision for her either. Zinnia knew she was setting herself up for failure. But she just couldn’t compromise the morals she clung to for as long as she could remember. 

“Zinnia?” Ria’s voice snapped Zinnia out of her thoughts. “Is everything alright? You had a faraway look in your eyes.”

“Well, I obviously have a big decision ahead of me,” Zinnia said pointedly. Ria opened her mouth to continue, but Farkas cut in.

“You don’t have to choose right now,” Farkas reassured. Zinnia wasn’t sure if he was trying to save her or himself from Ria. Ria was sweet but a little exhausting. The Imperial backed down, but Zinnia could tell by the look in her eyes she wanted to resume the chat when they went to their sleeping quarters later. 

Torvar had decided to challenge Zinnia to a drinking challenge after that. To everyone’s surprise and joy, she accepted. And to no one’s surprise, she lost. But that’s when other challenges arose and in Zinnia’s inebriated state, she accepted them. Athis and Zinnia had an arm-wrestling match, which resulted in Zinnia losing. But then Njada joined in and swiftly brought an end to Athis’s moment of victory. Arm-wrestling matches evolved into actual wrestling matches as the night went on and the mead went around. 

Zinnia doesn’t remember how she got to bed that night, but she did awaken with a smile on her face.

…hours after everyone else woke up.

Almost instantly, Zinnia’s inability to hold her liquor or wake up at an early hour became running jokes in Jorrvaskr. But that wasn’t even the worst thing she heard from them...

Commander Caius was found dead that morning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This chapter is a bit shorter than I would have liked, but it ended on the note I wanted. Sorry if it feels a bit like a filler but I hope you guys have enjoyed it! I have a lot of different ideas for this story but I'm really just figuring it out as I go, to be honest. So, as always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Tell me about what you like, what you don't like, what you want to see happen, or don't want to see happen. I'm open!
> 
> Also if anyone wants to beta read or bounce ideas off with me or something like that, hmu
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading <3


	6. The Resolve

Not even her horrible hangover could give her a worse feeling than what Zinnia felt right now. It was all anyone talked about in Jorrvaskr. Vignar Gray-Mane shocked everyone with the announcement. He was found dead in his bed, apparently had died in his sleep. Commander Caius was seasoned but not old enough to die of natural causes. And his station in the mostly peaceful hold of Whiterun meant that he didn’t see much for action to fall in battle. But that didn’t mean he was short on enemies either. 

Suddenly, it was very hot in the mead hall. Zinnia felt her heart racing and her palms sweat. 

“So do they know how he died?” was Zinnia’s first question that she couldn’t keep to herself. _She knows._ She knows what had happened to him. Azalea happened. A wave of dizziness washed over her.

“For now, it appears to be that his heart failed,” Vignar answered calmly. 

“But he wasn’t even that old,” Aela protested. Kodlak was older than Caius and he didn’t look like he was at risk for heart failure.

“That’s all we know right now,” Vignar replied. The Companions continued to ask him questions and talk among themselves, sensing foul play at hand. Zinnia was sick to her stomach and couldn’t finish her breakfast. She had to find out more, find out if Azalea was suspected, if _she_ was suspected. And she knew who to talk to. 

Zinnia stumbled her way out the doors of Jorrvaskr and into the sun’s rays. She paused after the door closed behind her and rested a hand against one of the old building’s wooden beams. Something as simple as breathing suddenly became very difficult for her. Her throat tightened, turning her breaths short and shallow. She curled her fingers into a fist, willing herself to get it together, before marching down the steps to the Wind District. 

The keep that once housed a dragon was now filled with chaos as people buzzed about news with the Commander’s unexpected death. The Jarl wasn’t on his throne and Proventus Avenicci and Irileth were not standing in their usual posts either. The trio were likely in the War Room and Zinnia could probably join in their conversation. But Zinnia wasn’t here for them. She was here for her housecarl.

Because Zinnia didn’t own any property in Whiterun, Lydia stayed in Dragonsreach. No one seemed to notice her when she came in and Lydia was easy to find--sitting at the long tables in the heart of the keep. When she caught sight of her thane, Lydia immediately got to her feet and stood up straight. 

“Honor to you, my Thane,” she greeted. Zinnia forced a small smile, even though she didn’t quite feel like it with this grim atmosphere. 

“You don’t have to keep calling me that...” Zinnia said quietly. Lydia frowned. 

“Thane is your title and I want to address you with the utmost respect I can,” she insisted. 

“You won’t be disrespecting me. Just call me Zinnia,” Zinnia reassured. Lydia hesitated. “Please.”

“Alright,” Lydia finally said, her frown fading. 

“I’m sorry I don’t have a house here yet for you to stay in,” Zinnia continued. “Are you alright staying here in Dragonsreach?” 

Lydia’s frown returned, “you don’t need to apologize, my--Zinnia.” A giggle bubbled up in Zinnia at Lydia’s near-slip-up. “I have lived here as part of the Whiterun Guard for a long time. It is you whom I’m worried about--”

“You don’t have to worry about me!” Zinnia quickly assured. “Please don’t worry about me, Lydia. I joined the Companions and I’m staying at Jorrvaskr.” 

A ghost of a smile was on Lydia’s lips, “Good. I’m glad. The Companions are good people,” _too good for me_ , Zinnia mused, “and you will be safe with them. But I will always be here if you need me.”

“Well, actually, I did come here because I needed to talk to you about something…”

“What can I do for you, my--Zinnia?” 

Zinnia’s smile was genuine now. Lydia was a good housecarl, she knew, even if she didn’t have any other housecarls to compare her to. Even if Lydia was assigned to Zinnia, she saw Lydia as her equal. Perhaps even a friend, eventually. 

“Do you know what happened to Commander Caius?” 

“It seems as though Commander Caius died of heart failure in his sleep last night. The Jarl and his steward are currently investigating it.” 

“Did you know him very well?” 

While Lydia’s expression remained impassive, there was a flicker of sadness in her eyes. 

“Yes. He trained me in the Whiterun Guard. We worked together for several years. He was the one who recommended me to be promoted to housecarl,” Lydia explained. Zinnia felt a pang in her chest. So it seemed Caius was like a mentor to Lydia, kinda like how Kodlak is with the Companions. It was the closest comparison Zinnia could make. While Zinnia herself didn’t have many relationships, she wasn’t a stranger to loss. 

“I’m sorry,” Zinnia mumbled.

“It’s not your fault, Zinnia,” Lydia stated flatly. “It’s just a part of life.”

Zinnia didn’t know if it was appropriate or not to ask this question yet, but she was dying to know the answer, “do they have any leads?” 

“Only one right now. Yesterday, Caius arrested Sabjorn for health and sanitation violations. Sabjorn had served him some bad mead. The Jarl thinks that it might have been poisoned.” 

The color drained from Zinnia’s face, “Poisoned? By Sabjorn?” 

“Perhaps. But we don’t know for sure. Commander Caius had some enemies, but Sabjorn wasn’t one of them. We don’t know what motive Sabjorn would have to do such a thing and he’s denying everything.”

“But who else could it be?” 

“There are some Stormcloak supporters in Whiterun who openly slander Commander Caius, who supported the Empire. The steward thinks that perhaps one of them is framing Sabjorn and wanted to remove the Commander to weaken the Hold for the Stormcloaks’ cause. The war is at a stalemate and Whiterun is the only neutral Hold left. Whomever the Jarl sides with can turn the tide of the war.” 

Zinnia nodded, mulling over Lydia’s news. It made sense, but she knew the truth. Azalea. She was too careless, as usual. And so stubborn and prideful that she _had_ to drink the damned mead too! 

Oh, gods, the mead! What if Azalea didn't make it to Riften? What if she's collapsed and injured? What if she’s lying somewhere, dying from the poison? What if wolves found her dying body and finished her off? Or a bear? Or a sabre cat? Or _a dragon?_ She could be anywhere by now and Zinnia’s already wasted enough time as it is, when she should be looking for her. 

“But the Jarl doesn’t want to open an investigation with the Stormcloak supporters,” Lydia continued. “If he shows suspicion of the Stormcloaks in Whiterun, then it could appear as though he sided with the Empire and end up provoking the Stormcloak army.”

“I have to go,” Zinnia suddenly blurted. Lydia’s brows knitted together. 

“Are you alright, my--Zinnia?” Lydia asked, concern etching itself on her face. “You look unwell. I can escort you back to Jorrvaskr, if you wish.” 

Zinnia quickly shook her head, “no! No, that won't be necessary. I just remembered I, uh, had some errands to run. Sorry. Please excuse me.” 

The blonde turned on her heel and swiftly left. It was suddenly very stuffy and difficult to breathe in Dragonsreach, just like Jorrvaskr was earlier. She didn't know where she was going but she had to go. She had to find her sister, wherever she may be, and make sure she was all right. 

* * *

Zinnia found herself outside of Whiterun’s gates. She’ll just have to retrace Azalea’s steps. When Zinnia last saw Azalea, they had parted ways at sunset, Azalea taking the road to Riverwood, and Zinnia taking the road to Whiterun. Azalea probably stayed at the inn in Riverwood, so if anything happens to her, it would have happened there, right? 

Mallus stopped her when she was passing Honningbrew Meadery. He was already outside, appearing to be cleaning out Sabjorn’s stuff to make room for the Black-Briars.

“Hey, you!” He beckoned from the doorstep. “Azalea’s sister!” 

“I can't talk right now,” though Zinnia did stop in her power walk, “I have to find her.” 

“Didn't you just see her yesterday?” 

“Yes, but she drank the poisoned mead yesterday! I have to find her and make sure she’s alright.” 

“Of course she's alright,” Mallus snorted.

“What?” Zinnia crossed the yard to the dirty Imperial man. “How do you know that?”

“I saw her drink a health potion or something after Sabjorn was arrested,” Mallus answered coolly. Zinnia’s frown deepened. So Azalea didn't accidentally kill Commander Caius. It was on purpose. This was her plan all along. She prepared to lie to Zinnia about it, willingly drank the mead while a cure poison potion sat in her pocket. 

Zinnia’s hands curled into tight fists and asked quietly, “did you know?”

“Know what?”

“What she was going to do to the Commander?”

“Yeah. Didn't you?” Mallus replied evenly. 

“No,” she said through gritted teeth. 

“It wasn't just a job for the Guild,” he explained. “She had a contract with the Brotherhood. But she didn't want to upset Brynjolf, so she told me so I could help cover for her when he'd ask.” 

Stendarr have mercy. Gods, she felt like an idiot! How could she be so stupid? Azalea was probably halfway to Riften now, and here Zinnia was, an accomplice for theft and murder, running around, sweating under the sun, busting her ass looking for her criminal sister! 

Azalea used her. She manipulated Zinnia into helping her and now she was left to pick up the pieces with nothing but a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. 

“Well what about Sabjorn? If he's convicted--”

“ _When_ he's convicted,” Mallus corrected sharply, “when he's convicted, nothing's going to happen. He's either going to get shipped off to rot in a prison somewhere or he’ll be executed.”

“But he knows he didn't do it. And we know that he didn't do it. What if he talks--”

“The only way anybody’s going to find out anything is if _you_ don't keep your cool,” he interrupted. “Sabjorn is already arrested. They're not going to believe anything he says. And I've already cleaned this place up because Caius told me to. There's no evidence and no witnesses. So tell me, are you going to keep your cool? Or are we going to have a problem?” 

Mallus was a lanky man but Zinnia’s small stature still made him appear imposing. His face had darkened, his eyes were cruel, and there was little space between them. Zinnia wanted to curl her fingers around the hilt of her sword, but it wasn't there. It was in Jorrvaskr. All Zinnia could do was back away and lower her gaze. 

“N-no,” was all the Dragonborn could muster. Everything else died in her throat. She swallowed thickly, trying to slow her racing heart. 

“Good,” Mallus also stepped back, “I would hate to see what would happen if we did.” 

The look on Mallus’s face showed that he knew _exactly_ what would happen, and it wouldn't be pretty for Zinnia. She was just as guilty as the thieves were and the new owner of Honningbrew Meadery wasn't going to let her forget it. 

Zinnia practically ran back to Whiterun, cursing under her breath the entire way. Fuck. She felt so weak and helpless and cowardly and stupid. She hated this feeling. She hated Mallus. She hated Azalea and the Thieves Guild and the Dark Brotherhood. Damn them. Damn them all to Oblivion! She was _never_ going to set foot in Riften ever again. And she was _never_ going to speak with Azalea again. 

* * *

After entering Whiterun once again, Lydia was there, waiting for her, and swiftly approached her. 

“There you are, my Thane,” Zinnia didn't have the energy to correct her, “I was worried about you when you left Dragonsreach so suddenly.”

“I'm fine, Lydia,” it came out harsher than Zinnia meant it. She tried again, more softly, “Everything is alright,” it wasn't, “I just had to take care of something.” 

“But your face was pale and you looked like you we're going to faint,” the housecarl pressed. 

_That's because she realized she was an accomplice to murder of the Whiterun Guard’s commander._

“I was up all night with the Companions and I had too much to drink.” 

“Oh. Forgive me, I've overstepped, haven't I?” 

“No, no, no! It's alright! You were just doing your job is all.” Zinnia wasn't used to people going out of their way and being concerned about her well-being. But Lydia’s didn't count. It was her job. 

“I'm honored to serve you, my Thane.” So Lydia had detected what Zinnia had truly meant. 

“Please, Lydia. Zinnia,” Zinnia politely corrected. 

“My apologies, Zinnia. I'm still getting used to it. Have you eaten anything yet today?”

A small smile formed on Zinnia’s lips, “Yeah, I...I haven't, actually.”

“I think you'll feel better if we get you something to eat. How about some lunch?”

* * *

The Bannered Mare already had its lunch rush, so it wasn't very crowded when they arrived. Zinnia was grateful she had someone to eat with who didn’t try to challenge her to a drinking contest. Desperate to take her mind off things, Zinnia asked Lydia about the Companions. Lydia admitted she didn’t know them very well because they, for the most part, ran in separate circles. She deeply respects them and gets along with them when they do share encounters. 

Zinnia explained that she had to choose one of them for a trainer and she wasn’t sure what to do. Lydia noticed that Zinnia wielded a sword and suggested she stick with honing her one-handed skills. 

And listen to Athis talk about how great he would be as Harbinger? No thank you. 

Then Lydia suggested that Zinnia opt to learn blocking with her free hand. Zinnia wasn’t sure if Njada would laugh or punch her in the face. 

The only reason why Zinnia had a sword in the first place was because Alvor gave her a sword. It wasn’t like she had much of a choice. She never had a choice...until now. Azalea always had Zinnia hang onto a dagger, which Zinnia kept under her pillow, rather than on her person. But daggers required you to get very close to whom you were fighting, and Zinnia knew she’d be dead before she could ever get close enough. 

But that left Farkas, Aela, and Vilkas. Vilkas’s disdain for Zinnia was very obvious, so that probably wouldn't end well. And yet that made her all the more ~~desperate~~ eager to prove him wrong. Aela was just as intimidating as Vilkas was--well, they all were intimidating. But so far Farkas has been the nicest to her. He was the safest choice. But what did she want to learn?

“May I ask you something, Zinnia?” Lydia suddenly asked, breaking Zinnia’s thoughts. 

“You don’t have to ask me first to ask a question,” Zinnia told her. 

“When do you intend to go to High Hrothgar?” 

Zinnia inwardly groaned. She didn’t intend to go at all. Yeah, she _was_ summoned by the Greybeards but that doesn’t mean she _had_ to go, right? Just because she is the Dragonborn doesn’t mean she has to be. What was it to Lydia anyway? Unless Lydia wasn’t the only one wondering the same thing. What if the Jarl and his steward were expecting Zinnia to go and fulfill her Dragonborn destiny? What if they needed her to, were counting on her, relying on her? How could she be able to live up to that? She didn’t even _want_ to live up to that.

“I’m sorry. I mean no disrespect, my Thane,” Lydia quickly said when Zinnia didn’t answer her. “I know that you were summoned by the Greybeards and I would be more than happy to escort you there whenever you’re ready.”

 _That was the thing._ Zinnia wasn’t ready. She didn’t know if she ever will be. But it was very reassuring for Zinnia to know that someone was on her side (even if that person was hired specifically to do just that).

“It’s alright, Lydia. But I think I want to stay a little while longer in Whiterun. I just joined the Companions and I want to get settled in,” Zinnia explained. So she wasn’t telling Lydia “no,” but it wasn’t “yes” either. It was a, “I need more time to figure my life out.” 

“As you wish, my Thane.” Zinnia gave Lydia a look and Lydia knew what she meant. “I mean, Zinnia.” 

“We’ll work on it.”

It all came down to one question: what did Zinnia want? What _did_ she want? Zinnia didn’t know the specifics but she realized one thing: she wanted to get her life moving. Her life definitely was not moving. It hasn't ever been moving. Zinnia stayed still while the world moved around her. And if today proved anything, it proved that Zinnia desperately needed to distance herself from Azalea. Zinnia had to stop sitting around, stop worrying, stop thinking, and start doing. 

So, after lunch with Lydia, the pair went their separate ways. Zinnia had taken her anger and turned it into renewed resolve as she marched to Jorrvaskr. Her mind was made up and Azalea was banished from it. She went to the training yard and that’s where she found exactly who she wanted to see. 

“Ah, there you are, new blood,” Aela the Huntress approached her, her tone confident yet lighthearted, “have you decided who you want as your trainer?” 

“I have.” 

Aela arched a red eyebrow, curiously waiting for Zinnia to continue.

“Vilkas. I want to train with Vilkas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't expect Lydia to have a role at all in this story and welp here we are! Hope you guys like this chapter! Thank you so much for your guys' support so far. Please continue to comment or give kudos! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3


	7. Take Up Arms

Vilkas did not like Zinnia.

Zinnia was...meek. Insecure. Her head always hung low, her eyes always cast to her feet. She was clearly a people-pleaser, not desperate for attention per say, but for approval. She was quiet, didn’t speak unless she was spoken to, and never gave anything away. Vilkas couldn’t understand why she was trying so hard or what she was trying to accomplish here. 

He certainly couldn’t understand why the fuck she chose  _ him  _ to be her trainer. 

“An interesting choice,” Aela’s expression gave nothing away but Vilkas knew she was just as surprised as she was. 

"Why?" Vilkas bluntly asked from his seat. That was what they all wanted to know. Of all trainers, why did she choose him? Was his disdain for her not obvious?

“I want to train with two-handed weapons,” Zinnia explained, lacing her fingers together. 

“Are you sure you can even lift a two-handed weapon?” Vilkas questioned skeptically. Two-handed weapons were for big, strong Nords. Tiny Bretons should stick to being mages. But when Zinnia looked at Vilkas, he saw the resolve in her eyes. 

“Yes, I can,” she stated matter-of-factly. “If you would teach me how.” 

Vilkas sighed and rose to his feet. If she wanted to be foolish and stubborn, then so be it. She’ll see the consequences of her actions soon enough. 

“All right then. Let’s not waste any time.” Vilkas motioned for Zinnia to follow him to the yard and she followed obediently. 

Farkas’s training proved useful. Zinnia knew the basics now but she needed to get into shape. She had no muscle on her. Vilkas made her do conditioning exercises, which actually mostly involved running errands with very heavy bags across Whiterun. Zinnia didn’t complain--or say anything at all for that matter--but Vilkas could see it in her violet eyes. 

Zinnia wanted to complain. Especially when she had to do it all over again the next day. It didn’t feel like training, it felt like she was just some errand girl, like she wasn’t good for anything else for the Companions. Even the guards started to catch on and would snicker at her as she struggled to climb Whiterun’s slopes. One time, she passed Lydia, who then stopped and tried to help her, but Zinnia was determined to never have anyone do  _ her  _ jobs ever again. 

After three days of what Vilkas called “training” (Zinnia called it torture), she finally worked up the courage to ask him for a real job. After all, many of the other Companions were gone on jobs--Farkas, Ria, Athis, and Skjor were all absent from Jorrvaskr. 

“You’re not ready,” he answered evenly. Zinnia’s face scrunched up, unable to hide her dissatisfaction any longer. 

“Yes, I am,” she protested. “Let me prove it. C’mon.” 

She was challenging him, daring him, clearly desperate for something more. Fine then. Vilkas will let her have it. He’ll take that challenge. Just because she was half his size and had a pretty face doesn’t mean Vilkas was going to go easy on her either. He didn’t care what Kodlak says--there was nothing special about Zinnia. 

So out to the training yard they went. It went about just as well as their first sparring match had when Vilkas first tested her arm. She was better than the first time, clearly learning from her mistakes and remembering what Farkas taught her. She was able to evade Vilkas better but still couldn’t land a solid blow. And it still ended with her eating dirt and him standing over her. 

“Gimme a sword,” Zinnia wheezed. “Let me try with a sword.”

“A weapon won’t make a difference,” Vilkas replied. “They play a role in battle but they do not make warriors out of men and women. It is the wielder who determines the outcome. Battles are won by people, not by weapons.” 

Zinnia opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came. Vilkas wanted her to say something, anything. Just speak up already! He knew she wanted to. But seeing her actively decide against it, he decided to grill her. 

“Why are you so desperate to prove yourself?” Vilkas demanded. The truth was, Vilkas wasn’t going to put a two-handed weapon in Zinnia’s hands until he was certain that she wasn’t going to waste his time, and that she was there to stay. The most important thing about being a Companion is having the ability to never give up, to never run from a fight. Zinnia’s zeal was just some kind of idealism that would fade away once the reality of their work sunk into her. 

And the truth was, Zinnia didn’t know what she was trying to prove. She believed that being a Companion would solve all of her problems. If she could prove herself to be a good Companion, then maybe,  _ maybe _ she could be a good Dragonborn. If she could prove herself to be a good Companion, then that was proof that she didn’t need her sister or some stupid Thieves Guild to protect her. She wanted to prove to the entire world that she was somebody, starting with Vilkas and his stupid, stubborn pride. 

“I just want to do a good job,” Zinnia answered honestly after a long pause. “Is there something wrong with such a thing?”

Vilkas regarded her, sitting in his shadow. She looked small and weak and if he was a bandit, she’d be dead by now. Everyone joined the Companions for different reasons. Skjor joined because he was looking for something meaningful. Torvar joined for the gold. Athis joined for the glory. Ria joined to stand alongside her idols. Aela joined for the honor of her family’s legacy. Vilkas stayed because he loved it. All of it. And so did everyone else. It’s what made them a family. 

“You said that you wanted to join the Companions to have a new beginning. But there’s more to it than that. You’re trying to prove something.”

Yeah, she’s trying to prove that she  _ is  _ something. Not nothing.

“All I want is to do a good job,” Zinnia pressed, frustration and desperation creeping in the back of her throat. “I want to bring honor to myself. And to the Companions. That’s it. That’s all I want.” It was the truth. At the end of the day, Zinnia just wanted to be a force for good in this world.

Vilkas could tell she was still holding back, still doing that people-pleasing thing, like she was afraid of something. Of what, he couldn’t tell. Perhaps of showing her emotions, or even feeling them at all. And yet, he didn’t think Zinnia was being dishonest with him either. She’s guarded. Vilkas couldn’t blame her for it, since he knew he was just as guilty. But he had a completely different reason for it. 

Heaving a heavy sigh, Vilkas decided that that was enough for him. For now. 

That night, Vilkas’s voice was stuck in Zinnia’s head, repeating the questions over and over again. She thought about him, about Lydia, about Kodlak, about the Jarl. She was a fraud. She knew it. Vilkas probably knew it. What was she supposed to do? Where was she supposed to go?

Overwhelmed and alone, Zinnia buried herself under the furs and pressed her face into the pillow. With the sounds of howling wolves filling the night, they drowned her out as she quietly cried herself to sleep.

The following day, Vilkas finally put a two-handed weapon in her hands. It was a greatsword, one of the lightest he could find. This was to teach her the basics--how to stand, how to hold it, and how to swing. He kept having to physically move her because she couldn’t mimic his demonstrations for the life of her. 

“If you want, I can show you how it’s done. I’d be _ more _ than happy to get behind you and teach you a thing or two on to move your body,” Torvar drawled suggestively with a wink from under the awning. The remark made Zinnia’s face turn bright red and she dropped the greatsword onto the ground. Torvar was howling with laughter. 

“Hey! Watch it! That’s worth more than you!” Vilkas barked at her before glaring at Torvar. “And you! Find something to do before I put your ass on a pike and use it as a training dummy.” 

Zinnia was so embarrassed by the whole thing that she actually volunteered to go back to running errands. 

For the rest of the week, she trained with Vilkas. He didn’t ask her any more questions, much to her relief. Instead, he focused on exercises. Some days were about boosting her strength, other days were about combat, with practice with two-handed weapons in-between. Zinnia gladly accepted them all. Anything to make her feel useful and keep her mind occupied.

Zinnia began and ended each day the exact same way. She awoke every morning (on time!) with the determination to take whatever Vilkas threw at her and give it her all. As long as she was still welcome at Jorrvaskr, Zinnia was going to continue to try to improve herself and prove that she is worthy to be there. But every night, the dark thoughts would return, and she would cry herself to sleep. 

Finally, Vilkas said, with some reluctance, “I’ve got a job for you.” 

Zinnia’s eyes instantly lit up, “really? Whatever it is, I’m ready. I’ll take it.”

“It’s a bit of a sensitive matter but it should be easy enough for you,” he began. “Someone stole a valuable family heirloom. You’re going to get it back.”

“Consider it done. I’ll head out immediately,” Zinnia said earnestly. This was it. This was her moment. This was her chance. Her redemption. 

“That’s what I want to hear. You’ll first go speak with the family. They may have some clues. Go to the Merryfair Farm in the Rift and don’t waste any time.”

_ Well, shit. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry for the delay. This chapter turned out shorter than I expected and contained more internal dialogue than I would've liked. Zinnia is just stuck with her thoughts and it's torturing her. But hopefully you guys liked it! I'm excited for the next chapter! I hope this story is moving along at a decent pace for you all. Sometimes it feels very choppy on my end but that might just be because I'm the writer (at least, that's my hope haha). 
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for reading! <3


	8. Dragonborn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Two chapters in one day??? Who am I??? I was in such a good groove writing that I just kept going! I hope that this doesn't make my chapter feel too rushed (though idk if a chapter this long can feel rushed. You tell me!). And I hope that this makes up for my lackluster chapters. 
> 
> Also, I already have tag for swearing, but there's a lot of swearing in this chapter, if that's something that concerns you!
> 
> Anyway, enjoy the chapter! <3

_Are you fucking kidding me?_

“The Rift?”

“Aye.” 

Vilkas was not. Of course he wasn’t. Of course he would send Zinnia back to where she came from.

“That’s by Riften,” Zinnia said. “The farm, I mean. Of course the Rift is by Riften. Riften is the Rift. The farm is just outside the city’s walls.” 

The walls that Zinnia once called home. The walls where Azalea was currently residing. After Zinnia vowed never to deal with her stupid, lying, cheating, thieving ass ever again. 

“Aye. Is there a problem?” Vilkas asked, arching an eyebrow at her.

Stendarr have mercy. 

“No, no, no!” Zinnia quickly assured. “Of course not. It’s just that, since the farm is outside the city of Riften, then don’t you think that maybe the Thieves Guild has something to do with it?” 

“It’s a possibility,” Vilkas agreed. “And if they do have something to do with it, we’ll have to figure something out.”

“What do you mean?”

“We operate on bringing people to justice. However, when it comes to factions, things get messy. Taking on a camp of bandits is one thing. Taking on a network of thieves is another, even if they are just a bunch of dirty lowlifes. They’re dirty lowlifes with eyes and ears everywhere. They’ve got clients. They’re tied to the Dark Brotherhood, which is a whole different faction of criminals. We have to tread carefully,” the Nord explained. Zinnia frowned. This did not sound like it was coming from a Companion. 

“So what are we supposed to do then?” Zinnia questioned. Surely, she can’t just let them have it. 

“We’ll have to figure something out,” Vilkas repeated gruffly. “These people need our help and we’re going to give it to them. They deserve to have their family heirloom back. And the pathetic scum who took it deserves justice. The Thieves Guild is a dying faction anyway. It’s only a matter of time before it completely collapses. And with our luck, let’s hope that this thief is just some petty bandit.” 

Vilkas chose this job specifically for the Breton to properly assess her. For one thing, jobs involving family heirlooms were easy enough. It required a little less action and a little more investigating, which might be what Zinnia needs. For another thing, he chose the Rift for a reason. The trip alone was going to take some time, getting there and back. And it would be a challenging one at that, since the Rift is overflowing with hostile wildlife. How will Zinnia handle herself in front of a charging bear? How long it will take for Zinnia to return to Jorrvaskr will tell Vilkas all that he would need to know. 

And here’s the last thing: if this job _did_ involve the Thieves Guild, it will test Zinnia in other ways. How will she handle dealing with a faction? Will they intimidate her? Will she give up? Or will she be able to pull something off? 

The Breton looked pale. Vilkas noticed this and frowned. She was uncertain about this job, he could tell. He could smell her adrenaline pumping. She was nervous. Uneasy. It was natural for your first job outside the comfort of Whiterun but this is what it meant to be a member of the Companions. If she couldn’t do this job, then she wasn’t fit to be a Companion. 

“Is there a problem, whelp?” Vilkas asked again. 

Her reply was immediate. “Nope.” 

What was she supposed to say? That she was from Riften and didn’t feel like going back and dealing with the life she left behind there? That she had a criminal of a sister, who, by the way is the one who beat up Skulvar Sable-Hilt, and also happened to murder Commander Caius _and_ who also is a member of the Thieves Guild. Azalea probably stole the damned family heirloom in the first place! Vilkas would laugh in her face, if he was capable of laughing. 

“Good. Then get going then.” 

After being dismissed, Zinnia briskly walked inside Jorrvaskr, her mind swimming. She had to go pack a bag. Packing a bag would occupy her. Give her something to do instead of think about the thousand different ways this job could go wrong. 

On the brightside, Vilkas was letting her take a two-handed weapon. 

Pushing the door open to the lower level of Jorrvaskr, Zinnia bumped into Aela. 

“Ah, sorry, Aela!” Zinnia quickly apologized. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

The huntress waved a hand, “no harm was done.” 

“Say, do you have any jobs available?” The question flew out of the Breton’s mouth before she could even process it in her mind. Aela stared at her intently.

“Vilkas doesn’t have a job for you?” Aela questioned skeptically. 

“No.” 

“I see,” Aela was studying Zinnia intently but Zinnia kept her expression neutral, unreadable. “Well, in that case, I do have a job you can do. A citizen of Ivarstead has requested our assistance. It seems she is having a problem with some predators interfering with her business. Think you can handle it?”

“Consider it done. I’ll head out immediately.” 

Stendarr’s balls, Zinnia managed to ruin everything. 

There weren’t many rules the Companions abided by. But one of those rules was simple: only take one job at a time. She was told that on her very first day. It kept the guild from getting spread out too thinly across the Province. Taking more than one job can get messy very easily, especially since their jobs involved saving someone from danger. Taking more than one job meant prioritizing saving one person over another. 

Neither of these jobs were as dire as that, but Zinnia still broke the simplest rule of the Companions. Vilkas will have her head when he finds out. 

_If he finds out_ , a voice, Azalea’s, reminded Zinnia. She immediately banished the thought of her sister. She couldn’t blame Azalea this time. Zinnia dug her own grave. 

Zinnia let her body just move without thinking. She packed a few things, probably not enough, but she didn’t care, and was out Jorrvaskr’s doors. Instead of fleeing to start a new life as a farmer in the Pale, Zinnia found herself ascending the steps to Dragonsreach. She walked straight to the heart of the keep, where her housecarl sat around the hearth. Immediately, Lydia got to her feet to greet her Thane, but Zinnia didn’t acknowledge her. She pulled out the chair beside Lydia’s and plopped down in it, dropping her pack to the floor.

“Is everything alright, Zinnia?” Lydia asked.

“No.” 

“What’s wrong?”

“I ruined everything.” 

“What?”

“I ruined everything--is this ale strong?” Zinnia peered into the tankard at Lydia’s seat, who finally sat back down beside her. 

“Tell me what happened.” 

“I took two jobs for the Companions.” 

“So?”

“You can only take one job at a time.” 

“Did they make you take two jobs?” 

“No.”

“Then why do you have two jobs?”

“Because I asked for two jobs.” 

“Why did you ask for two jobs?” 

“Because I didn’t want the first job they gave me.” 

“Why didn’t you just turn it down?” 

“I couldn’t say no.” 

_And there you have it._

“I can’t go back there ever again. I ruined everything. They’re going to hate me,” Zinnia said into the tankard of ale. Lydia was frowning at her. “Now I have to go to Ivarstead and Riften to deal with some bears and bandits or whoever stole the heirloom.” 

“Ivarstead is on the way to Riften,” Lydia pointed out. “So you’re actually just killing two birds with one stone. You’re making things easier for them.”

“But I shouldn’t have taken two jobs in the first place. They’re still going to be upset with me,” Zinnia whined. 

“Unless you say you had to go to Ivarstead anyway. You were summoned by the Greybeards, after all. The Companions will understand your duties as the Dragonborn,” Lydia reminded. 

Oh, right. There was that too. If only she had bothered to tell the Companions she was the Dragonborn.

And yet, suddenly, her whole Dragonborn destiny seemed a lot less intimidating than angry Companions. 

“Yeah...you’re right,” Zinnia agreed, the realization dawned on her. She might as well go to High Hrothgar while she’s there. What has she got to lose? “What do you say about following me to visit the Greybeards?”

“It would be my honor.”

* * *

And so, Zinnia and her housecarl set out for Ivarstead. Skulvar Sable-Hilt gave Zinnia a major discount on the horses after their last encounter and Zinnia was not in the financial position to get caught up in feeling guilty over it. 

It took the pair a day and a half to arrive in Ivarstead. After spending the night at the Vilemyr Inn, Zinnia and Lydia decided to first go to High Hrothgar and then do her jobs for the Companions. This was partially due to the fact that they were asked by a resident to deliver supplies to the Greybeards, which Zinnia couldn’t say no to. And it was also due to the fact that Zinnia was still in a very negative headspace regarding her doomed membership with the Companions.

Naturally, Zinnia nearly died seven-thousand times on the Seven Thousand Steps to High Hrothgar. She probably would’ve if Lydia wasn’t there. At High Hrothgar, Zinnia delivered the supplies and met Arngeir and the Greybeards. Zinnia had to demonstrate her Thu’um and Shout at the Greybeards. However, Zinnia had only used her Shout once, and that was when she killed the dragon outside Whiterun. She never used it again since. Though she wanted to on Vilkas…

It didn’t go well, to say the least. But these were monks. They had all the patience in the world. Zinnia was grateful for them, and for Lydia, who stayed on the sidelines without complaint. 

The Greybeards taught Zinnia how to properly use her Thu’um and the Unrelenting Force Shout she had learned but not yet perfected. They even taught her a second Shout. Divines bless their hearts. Zinnia was not used to such kindness and compassion. Perhaps she should just live up here with them and never have to face Vilkas's wrath ever again.

No. Bad idea. Very bad idea.

After that was all said and done, Arngeir tasked Zinnia with retrieving the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller as her final trial as Dragonborn. Naturally, Zinnia accepted without thinking, and Lydia began to see what her problem was. 

The climb down to Ivarstead went a lot better than the climb up. Zinnia didn’t almost die, but that was partially because they killed most of the predators on their way up in the first place. But she remembered where all the ice patches were and was able to stay on her feet _and_ wield the greatsword. Small victories. 

* * *

When they arrived at Ivarstead, night was falling and people were turning in. Zinnia asked Lydia to get their rooms at the inn while she went to find Klimmek and tell him she made the delivery. Zinnia’s negative thoughts about her doomed membership at the Companions were almost gone after her recent successes. 

And as Zinnia was walking down the cobblestone street of the tiny town, she stopped dead in her tracks. Under the light of the mill’s torches, Zinnia spotted Njada Stonearm. 

And just as Zinnia spotted her, they locked gazes. Njada’s glare sent a chill right through the Dragonborn. 

“You!” Njada called, marching right up to where Zinnia stood frozen. 

“Njada…” Zinnia choked out. “What are you doing here?” 

“Me? What the fuck are _you_ doing here?” the Nord woman demanded. 

“I’m, uh, doing a job for Aela…” her voice cracked.

“No, _I’m_ doing the job for Aela,” Njada growled. “ _You’re_ supposed to go to Riften. What in Oblivion do you think you’re doing?”

“Are they mad?” Zinnia squeaked. 

“No.” 

“Really?”

“Of course they’re mad, you idiot!” Njada barked. “Vilkas is _pissed_ you went behind his back like that.” 

“I didn’t go behind his back!”

“Taking a job from him and then going right up to another member of the Circle for another job is going behind someone’s back, dumbass.”

Okay, so maybe Zinnia _did_ go behind his back. A little.

“Should I go back?” 

“Gods, you’re even stupider than you look,” Njada groaned. 

“Hey!”

“You can’t go back without completing your job! That’s even worse than taking two jobs! Then you’re not even doing either of them! What were you even thinking in the first place, huh? Did you have temporary amnesia or something? Or did you think you were going to try to show off to the Circle? I’m surprised you managed to make it this far in the first place--”

“I’m sorry!” Zinnia cut in. “I’m sorry. I messed up. I wasn’t thinking. I still have every intention to do both of the jobs, even though I wasn’t supposed to take them both.”

“No, I’m taking the bear job here. You’re going to get that family heirloom back in Riften, even if it kills you.”

“You there!” a voice cut in beside the girls, badly startling Zinnia.

“What?” Njada growled, whipping her head to face the speaker. 

There were two men. They were dressed in brown leather robes and had strange, white masks covering their faces. 

“Which one of you is the one they call Dragonborn?” one of the men demanded. 

Zinnia’s heart stopped.

“Huh? Dragonborn? Can’t you see we’re in the middle of a conversation here?” Njada questioned, annoyed. 

“We need to know who the Dragonborn is,” the man pressed. 

“Buddy, do I _look_ like the Dragonborn to you? If you keep bothering us, I’m going to kick your ass,” the Nord woman threatened. Both men turned their heads to look at Zinnia. Even though their eyes were covered by the masks, Zinni could feel their stares boring into her. 

“Are _you_ the one they call Dragonborn?” he asked. Njada looked at her, her expression still angry and confused. 

“I--I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Zinnia lied, taking a cautious step back. She _did not_ like where this was going. 

“Your lies fall on deaf ears. Deceiver! We know you are the False Dragonborn! You shall not stand in the way of the true Dragonborn’s return. He comes soon, and we shall offer him your heart! When Lord Miraak appears all shall bear witness. None shall stand to oppose him!” 

There was a flurry of activity. Both men drew weapons and they clashed against metal. Njada jumped in front of Zinnia and raised her shield in defense. Zinnia yelped and jumped back from the attempted assault. 

“I’ve had enough of you! I’ll kill you!” Njada cried as she continued to block both men’s attacks. 

Zinnia watched, uncertain of what to do. These men were strong and Njada couldn’t take them both, no matter how angry and determined she was. But these men weren’t after Njada--they were after Zinnia. Njada was protecting her. And she was going to get herself hurt because of her. 

Without warning, Zinnia Shouted. 

“ _WULD!”_

Zinnia blew past Njada and the two attackers in a whirlwind and found herself stumbling meters away from where she once stood. She quickly regained her footing and turned back to face them. 

“Hey! You want a Dragonborn? Come and get me!” Zinnia beckoned, drawing her greatsword from her back. The mysterious men abandoned Njada, who stood there in utter bewilderment. Zinnia planted her feet firmly on the ground and while she was ready to swing, she waited for them to come closer. 

_“FUS!”_

A powerful force ripped from Zinnia’s throat and collided itself point blank in the chest of one of the men, knocking the wind out of him and sending him stumbling. Njada pounced quickly. She swung her shield against his skull and sent him crashing into the dirt. In the next instant, her sword pierced his heart. 

The other man had cleverly evaded the power of her Thu’um and fired a bolt of lightning at her while she was still planted on the ground. The lightning slammed into her chest, knocking her onto her back on the cobblestone. Zinnia groaned as the magic sparked off her body, regretting not to have activated her Dragonskin beforehand. Azalea would’ve had it done by now. And she would’ve had these men killed by now too.

People started shouting, guards were running their way, but no one could stop the man from reaching Zinnia. He swung his dagger down upon her but she managed to block it with her greatsword with a loud clang. Her blade was bigger than his but he pressed his full weight into her, painfully crushing her into the stone. 

Zinnia gritted her teeth. Then she opened up and screamed. 

_“FUS!”_

Her Shout slammed full force into the face of the man, lifting him off her body and sweeping the mask clean off his face, revealing the face of a Dunmer. As he stumbled, Zinnia leapt to her feet and swung at him. He evaded and tried to put distance between himself and the Dragonborn, but Zinnia wouldn’t let him. He expertly deflected her unrelenting assault until she found an opening in his defense and exploited it. She plunged her blade through the Dark Elf’s chest and he released an agonized yell before crumpling in a heap on the ground.

Zinnia stood there over his body, her chest heaving and her knuckles white from her tight grip on the hilt of the sword. She didn’t move, not knowing if it was over or not. 

“My lady!” Lydia pushed through the crowd that had gathered and rushed to Zinnia’s side. She began to bombard her Thane with questions, examining her closely for wounds. There was a dark spot on the front of Zinnia’s armor from where she was struck by the lightning attack and there was a cut on her cheek she didn’t know she was there. But the rest of the blood she was covered in wasn’t her own, much to Lydia’s relief. 

“What happened here?” A Rift guard demanded. 

“I don’t have a fucking clue,” Njada breathed. 

“Who started the fight?” 

Zinnia was still struggling to catch her breath, so Njada spoke up, “they did. They said they were going to kill her and then attacked us both. We were only defending ourselves.”

“Did anybody else witness this?” The guard asked, looking at the crowd. Zinnia shyly raised her hand. “Someone who _wasn’t_ involved in the fight?”

“Sir, we’re Companions from Whiterun. Both of us. We’re here for jobs to help people, not start trouble for them,” Njada explained. “Do you really think the Companions are just going around starting fights and randomly killing people? Or how ‘bout _the Dragonborn?_ You think she has time for this when dragons are roaming the skies?”

Njada smiled at Zinnia. It was beyond creepy and Zinnia knew she wasn’t going to hear the end of it when this is all said and done. But Njada is being _nice_. Zinnia also knew that this wasn’t an opportunity to be wasted. 

“Dragons?” People started murmuring among themselves in the crowd. Ivarstead was not far from Helgen, so many of the residents were on high alert for dragons.

“Stop. Everyone remain calm. There are no dragons around here,” the guard reassured. 

“But she _is_ the Dragonborn, isn’t she?”

“She’s the one the Greybeards summoned!”

“I saw her Shout!”

“She Shouted one of them to death!”

“Just like Ulfric Stormcloak and the High King!”

Well, now, this was getting out of hand. Everyone was staring at her, talking about her. Zinnia wanted to shrink into nothing and disappear. 

“Hey!” Njada snapped, silencing everyone. “Let’s get one thing clear, alright? She didn’t Shout anyone to death. _I_ killed the guy my Shield-Sister Shouted at. His blood is on my blade. Give credit where credit is due, thank you. The last thing we need is Ulfric Stormcloak knocking on Jorrvaskr’s doors wondering who is trying to steal his thunder. And second, here’s proof that these cultists were trying to kill us.” 

Njada was standing over one of the cultists’ bodies, holding a piece of paper in her hand. 

“‘Board the vessel Northern Maiden docked at Raven Rock. Take it to Windhelm, then begin your search. Kill the False Dragonborn known as Zinnia before she reaches Solstheim. Return with word of your success, and Miraak shall be most pleased,’” Njada read. Zinnia paled. She handed it to the inquisitive guard, who read it over before glancing up at Zinnia. 

“Are you Zinnia?” She nodded. “And you are indeed the Dragonborn summoned by the Greybeards?”

“Yes, sir…”

“I have witnessed it myself. Zinnia took supplies up to the Greybeards for me yesterday,” Klimmek chimed from the crowd. 

“I see,” the guard folded the paper in half and handed it back to Njada, “Well, all right then. I’m glad we got that sorted out.”

“If you have a problem with us, you can take it up with Kodlak Whitemane in Jorrvaskr,” Njada said smugly. Like anybody in Skyrim was going to have a problem with Kodlak Whitemane.

“Or Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun,” Lydia added. “Zinnia is Thane of Whiterun and the jarl can attest to her honor.”

“That won’t be necessary," the guard was quick to back down, "I’ll take my leave now, and I suggest all of you do too.”

The crowd dispersed, save for Zinnia, Njada, and Lydia. Klimmek thanked Zinnia for taking the supplies to High Hrothgar and handed her a pouch of septims. When he was gone, Njada was waiting, her arms folded across her blood-stained chest. 

“All right, now that that’s over with, start talking,” the Nord commanded. Zinnia sighed tiredly. “When were you going to tell the Companions that you were the fucking Dragonborn?”

“Who’s to say I’m _actually_ the Dragonborn?” Zinnia countered. What? It was a last resort. “Those cultists might’ve had the wrong person.”

“They didn’t,” Njada deadpanned. “I saw you Shout. _Three times_.” 

“Ulfric Stormcloak can Shout. Maybe he’s the Dragonborn.”

“Ulfric Stormcloak wasn’t summoned by the Greybeards. You went to High Hrothgar. And don’t tell me it’s because you’re so scared of Vilkas that you decided to become a monk, which we all know is a load of mammoth shit. So enough with the lies and out with it before I beat it out of you!”

“Don’t talk to my Thane that way,” Lydia hissed, stepping forward. She was taller than Njada, who was taller than Zinnia, but Njada wasn’t fazed. 

“What is she, your housecarl?” Njada asked Zinnia, ignoring Lydia. “You brought your housecarl along for the trip to High Hrothgar. She knows you’re Dragonborn, so did those cultists, and so does whoever this Miraak guy is.”

“All right, all right. I’m the Dragonborn. At least, the Greybeards said I was,” Zinnia confessed, casting her gaze to her feet.

“Does Kodlak know? Do _any_ of the Companions know?”

“No…”

“Well, why the fuck not? I raised my shield for you. I have a right to know who exactly I’m raising it for. Why keep this from us?”

“Because I don’t know if I even want to _be_ the Dragonborn!” Zinnia snapped, exasperated. “Look, one minute, I’m crawling out of Helgen. And the next, I’m being summoned by the Greybeards because I absorbed some dragon’s soul at the Western Watchtower. It all happened so fast. I thought it had to be some kind of joke by the gods. Or by some daedric prince. Or _something!_ I didn’t want it to be real. I didn’t think that this small, pathetic orphan from Riften could be the Dragonborn!”

Both Lydia and Njada were visibly caught off guard by Zinnia’s outburst. She looked like she was about to cry at any moment now, but Zinnia held back. The last thing she needed was to start crying in the middle of a street in front of Njada Stonearm and her housecarl. 

“Easy. I’m not asking for your whole life story,” Njada said after a pause, her tone softer. “It’s fine. I get it now.”

“I’m sorry for yelling--” Zinnia quickly apologized, embarrassed of her own outburst now that she realized what she had said. “It’s not that I don’t trust you or the Companions.”

“Look, it’s your business, alright? You don’t owe anyone shit. But,” Njada paused, her tone going back to its usual hardness, “we don’t keep secrets in Jorrvaskr either. They have a right to know too, if you expect them to raise a blade or a shield or even a _mug_ in your name, understand? We have to know who we’re fighting for. Otherwise, what’s the damn point?”

Njada was right. Zinnia knew she was right. The Companions were a family and they were like that for a reason. No secrets between them. That is how they are all able to trust each other and fight for each other. They knew exactly who had their back. And that’s what made the Companions strong. She knew lying to them was a mistake and that if it wasn’t for Njada, she could be dead by now. How many people will Zinnia owe her life to? When will she start saving herself? 

But, even so, Zinnia can’t do it. 

“You’re right, Njada,” Zinnia said softly. The look on Njada’s face told Zinnia it already went straight to her head, but Zinnia chose to ignore that, “but please don’t tell the Companions. I don’t want them to know yet.”

“What did I _just_ say?”

“That it’s _my_ business. That I don’t owe anybody shit,” Zinnia repeated pointedly. “I still have a final trial to do for the Greybeards. I have to see that through first before I decide to tell anyone who I really am.”

“And what about them?” Njada asked, jerking her chin to the dead cultists. 

“I...have no fucking clue…” Zinnia sighed. “I have so much to do! I have to take care of that job in Riften, then I gotta find some wind horn, and now I have to go to Solstheim to deal with someone who wants me dead!” 

“I can see now why you don’t want to be the Dragonborn,” Njada said. “But only a milk drinker would give something like _that_ up.” 

“I just don’t want it to come back to Jorrvaskr,” Zinnia murmured. “I don’t want more cultists to show up looking for me. Or worse, a dragon!”

Njada snorted, “what do you take us for? Do you think _we’re_ just a bunch a milk drinkers with our thumbs up our asses?”

“No, but--”

“Yeah, yeah. Save it. I know that you know I’m right. Now I’m going to get this blood washed off and get myself a victory mug of mead. I guess you and your housecarl deserve one too.”

“As your Shield-Sister?” Zinnia said with a hint of smugness. 

“I only called you that to get the guards off our backs. Don’t let it get to your head. I won’t hesitate to remind you that you’re just a whelp.”

And so, that night, Lydia went to bed. But Zinnia and Njada stayed at the bar together. They didn’t talk. Instead, they sat side by side, drank mead, and listened to the bard sing. When they finally retired to bed, this was the first night Zinnia didn’t cry herself to sleep. Instead, she fell into blissful sleep without bearing a single thought to what awaited her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So?? What did you guys think??? I had so much fun writing this chapter! But I will be the first to admit that I suck at writing fight scenes, so your thoughts and comments are much appreciated in that department. 
> 
> And also, what did you guys think of Njada's character?? One of the things that I found to be frustrating was when I read a Skyrim fic involving the Companions, it was really only about the Dragonborn and their love interest. The rest were just kind of forgotten, especially my girl Njada. Or if they weren't forgotten, they seemed too ooc for my liking (then again, I could just be too picky). I really want to flesh out ALL the Companions in this story, show the good and the bad (and hopefully without making Zinnia too passive but rip). So please please please tell me if you think I've missed the mark on Njada's character, or Aela or Vilkas or any of them really!! I want you guys to be able to hear their voices when you read this fic, like they're coming to life.
> 
> Anyway, thank you much for reading! <3


	9. Bow to the Master (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! It's been a hot second since I posted a new chapter on here. It's a bit of a shorter chapter but what I have planned is probably going to be like 15 pages, which I'm assuming you guys don't want to read in one giant chapter haha. So here's part one! Hope you guys like it!
> 
> Enjoy the chapter! <3

Everything seemed to be back to normal the next morning. Dragonborn or not, Zinnia was still the skittish and anxious girl that she was. Njada Stonearm was still Njada Stonearm, with a hard and unreadable expression. She and Zinnia didn’t have breakfast together, nor did they really say goodbye to each other. But now they had a silent, mutual understanding of each other, even if neither of them would admit it out loud.

Zinnia sent Lydia back to Whiterun before she left for Riften. Her housecarl immediately disapproved and protested. She wanted to remain at her Thane’s side in case more cultists came to attack. But Zinnia insisted. What she needed to do next she had to do alone. 

It was afternoon when Zinnia arrived just outside Riften’s city walls. While she gave her horse to Shadr, she walked down the dirt path to the Merryfair Farm. When she introduced herself to Dravin Llanith, he wasn’t very thrilled that the Companions sent their newest and most inexperienced member to help him. She was very tempted to shut him up and tell him she’s the Dragonborn but suppressed the urge. But that wasn’t even the worst part. 

Dravin said exactly what she didn’t want to hear. He didn’t know who stole his family heirloom because he couldn’t see their face. They wore a dark hood and a leather cuirass. He then proceeded to complain about how useless the guards were, how they just let this happen to him. By the time Zinnia was able to leave the farm, it was already sunset. 

Riften was just like she remembered. The sights, the smells, all of it. An evening chill settled in the air so the Companion sought warmth from the Bee and Barb. She’ll have to use the last of her septims for a room for the night (she’ll be damned if she ever has to sleep in the Ratway ever again). 

Zinnia anticipated the Thieves Guild to be involved with the burglary but she still didn’t know what the best course of action was. A room at the Bee and Barb provided a safe place where Zinnia can hide out from anyone (Azalea) who might recognize her--or worse, mistaken her for Azalea--and come up with a plan. 

“I haven’t seen you around in a long time,” the bartender greeted when Zinnia took a seat on one of the stools. “You look different.”

“A good different?” Zinnia asked hopefully. 

“Better than that troublemaker sister of yours,” Keerava grumbled. “Can I get you something?”

“Mead, please,” Keerava pulled out a tankard and a bottle of Black-Briar mead from under the counter and poured the cup for Zinnia. “So what’d she do this time?”

“What hasn’t she done?” the Argonian clipped. “She harassed me about some money I owed those buffoons in the Ratway. Brynjolf apparently didn’t get my message the first time. She even threatened my family in Morrowind!”

Zinnia grimaced and took a long drink of mead, “that’s awful. I’m sorry.” There were many instances where Azalea was all bark and no bite. No one could tell but Zinnia. And Zinnia knew that Azalea’s threat to Keerava had been empty. “If it makes you feel any better, you don’t have to worry about Azalea going to hurt your family. She wouldn’t do that.”

“I don’t take any chances when it comes to my family,” Keerava said firmly. “But thanks for the peace of mind. Maybe next time I’ll give her a piece of my mind.” 

Zinnia smiled, “so got any rooms for tonight?” 

“I’ve got one with your name on it,” Keerava replied, returning Zinnia’s smile. “I can understand why you left Riften. I can’t stand this awful city. But why did you come back?” 

“I’m just here on business,” Zinnia informed. “I joined the Companions and I’m here doing a job for them.” 

“The Companions, hmm? Think you can convince them to relocate Jorrvaskr here? Maybe they can finally bring the Thieves Guild down once and for all.” The women shared a laugh. “I never pegged you for the warrior type. But hey, since you’re not hanging around that filthy guide anymore, it doesn’t really matter to me.” 

“You’ve got some nerve showing your face around here!” an angry female voice shouted at Zinnia. A big hand clapped on Zinnia’s shoulder and jerked her around, spilling her mead everywhere in the process. Zinnia came face to face with a Nord woman in iron armor and wore war paint on half of her face. Golden eyes bore into Zinnia’s violet ones and she shrunk under her intimidating gaze. 

“M-Mjoll!” Zinnia squeaked. Mjoll the Lioness. She was new to Riften--at least, new in comparison to Zinnia, who had lived there since she was a little girl. It was better to say they knew of each other rather than they actually _knew_ each other. “It’s me! Zinnia!”

“Zinnia?” Mjoll repeated skeptically as she narrowed her eyes at the Breton woman. “Try a new line, thief. You can’t fool me with that one again.”

Zinnia balked at Mjoll’s words. Did she hear that right? Azalea was fooling people into thinking she was her? Was Mjoll serious?

Judging by Mjoll’s intimidating expression, she was deadly serious.

Great.

“It’s not her,” Keerava interjected. “That’s Zinnia.”

“Azalea and I may be identical in appearance but we are nothing alike, Mjoll,” Zinnia stated. “I’m not here to cause any trouble. I’m just here on a job for the Companions.” Mjoll studied Zinnia intently, searching for truth and lies. She decided to believe Zinnia, mostly because Keerava defended her as well. Mjoll released her hold on Zinnia and Zinnia released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. The Nord woman bent down and picked up the fallen tankard and set it on the counter. 

“I’m sorry, Zinnia. I...I thought you were her. You two are completely identical,” Mjoll breathed. 

“I know,” Zinnia groaned. So this is what Zinnia gets for letting herself be consumed by Azalea’s shadow...

“Sorry--I know you know. Your sister has caused a lot of trouble around here for everyone and I’m trying to put an end to it.” Mjoll shifted her gaze to the bartender. “Please give her another mug of mead. On me.” Mjoll pulled out some septims from her pocket and pushed them across the counter. 

“Oh, no, it’s alright, Mjoll. You don’t have to do that,” Zinnia quickly protested. “Really. I should be apologizing to you. For Azalea, I mean. I’m sorry for whatever she did to hurt you.”

“It’s the least I can do. I didn’t mean to come at you like that,” Mjoll insisted with a wave of her hand. Keerava placed two mugs of mead down on the counter for the two women. 

“What did she do, if I may ask?” Zinnia inquired. Mjoll sighed and took a seat in the empty stool beside the Breton. 

“She has my blade, Grimsever,” Mjoll replied. “Without it, I feel as defenseless as a newborn.”

Zinnia suppressed a snort. Did Mjoll even _know_ who she was talking to? Zinnia doubted Mjoll the Lioness could ever be defenseless in any situation. She was everything Zinnia imagined when she thought of Nord heroes--fearless, strong, and righteous. 

“Did she steal it from you?” Zinnia questioned. 

“Aye,” Mjoll paused. “I lost it years ago in a Dwarven ruin. Your sister found it and she _knew_ it belonged to me and how much it meant to me. She dangled it in front of me like a carrot to a mule. It’s just plain cruel.” 

“That sounds about right...” Zinnia muttered. “She always has to have what everyone else wants.” 

“I tried to get it back to her but it’s not easy. The guards here are corrupt and influenced by the Thieves Guild. And she’s too cowardly to accept a duel for ownership of the blade.”

“That’s because she knows you’ll win. And you won’t do anything else to get it back.” By “anything else,” she meant “steal it back.” “I’m surprised she went to a Dwarven ruin to retrieve it. Those places freak her out.”

“Grimsever is a one-of-a-kind blade.” 

“And she hates you,” Zinnia added. But the two women only laughed. It was true. Ever since Mjoll came to Riften and vowed to rid it of corruption, Azalea took it as a direct challenge. She loved nothing more than to toy with Mjoll, more so than any other person. But that was because Mjoll was the only person in Skyrim to be able to directly challenge Azalea in more ways than one. Now it seemed Azalea had the upper hand in their feud. 

“If there’s anything I can do to help, I would, but I can’t say I can get your sword back for you,” Zinnia said after a long pause. “I’m actually trying to avoid her right now and keep my stay brief.” 

“I don’t blame you. This city doesn’t deserve you.” Zinnia flinched at Mjoll’s words. She didn’t believe it. Not for one second. Zinnia has always been and always will be the undeserving one. When the Breton woman remained silent, Mjoll sensed a shift in the atmosphere and opted to change the subject, “so, the Companions, huh?” 

Zinnia and Mjoll spent many hours sitting and chatting at the bar with Keerava joining in from time to time. However, due to her journey from today and what awaited her tomorrow, Zinnia was the first to turn in for the night. 

Unfortunately, Zinnia got no rest that night, no matter how hard she tried. She spent the night lying in bed, tossing and turning, her mind swimming with every scenario imaginable for her. The Thieves Guild was involved with this job. She knew that going into it. Vilkas knew that when she gave her the job. He told her to write to him if she had to get involved with the Thieves Guild. 

But Zinnia had no intention of writing to Jorrvaskr. She might be the only Companion who has a connection to the Guild. She knew the members of the Guild and she was welcomed in the Ragged Flagon. She was the only person who could do this job. 

That thought didn’t make it any easier. Zinnia didn’t like the Thieves Guild or what they stood for. All of it wrong. Dishonorable. It wasn’t the person she wanted to be, no matter how many times Brynjolf and Azalea asked. But these were still the same people who were kind to her. They offered food and shelter to her and her sister when they had nowhere else to go. She may not exactly call these people friends but they had never wronged her. They only helped her. She owed them. 

Which is why Zinnia didn’t want to see any of them ever again. It would just be a reminder of the fact that her anger and hatred towards them wasn’t justified. And if any of them knew about it, Zinnia didn’t know what they would do. And if they--by they, she meant Brynjolf and Azalea--tried to convince her to stay, Zinnia didn’t know if she trusted herself enough to resist their persuasions. The two of them alone had a way with words. Together? Unstoppable. 

No. Zinnia had to remember what she was here for. She was here to do a job for the Companions. She was here to help someone the Thieves Guild had hurt. She had to hold onto the fact that Azalea fed her lies before, and she will surely do so again. 

* * *

There was a knock on Zinnia’s door early the next morning. She heard it, but she hoped it was just her imagination. But they knocked again. And again. 

It had to be Talen-Jei or Keerava. Maybe they were waking her up at this ungodly hour to offer breakfast. Or maybe they just did this regularly for their guests. Or maybe it was a courier knocking. Gods know how persistent couriers can be and they usually put the deliveries directly into your hands. Why else would someone be knocking on Zinnia’s door? 

Unless it was Azalea. Zinnia prayed to the divines that it wasn’t Azalea. She wasn’t ready to see her yet. She doesn’t know what she’d say to her yet. She wasn’t mentally prepared for this. 

It was clear this person wasn’t going anyway anytime soon. With a loud groan and a long yawn, Zinnia pulled herself out of her warm bed and trudged across the room. When she opened the door, she paled. 

“Hello, lass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
